Оригинален текст
Faded to the grain
can't hear the mumbling complaints
where canons rust
swim against the current with trust
Running up hill
in the morning when waters are still
ropes are cut
unclear patterns when eyes are shut
Faded to the grain
Faded to the grain
can't hear the mumbling complaints
where canons rust
swim against the current with trust
Running up hill
in the morning when waters are still
ropes are cut
unclear patterns when eyes are shut
Faded to the grain