Текст песни Наутилус Помпилиус - Бедная Птица

I do not remember how to name this small town
I do not remember what it was a century
But I took you up as a poor bird
That wound stupid children

I whispered tales of distant lands
I would like you to do a little nice
I promise you that I will return in a month
Although he knew that he could not come back

How do we hurt
Those who donate the sky
And for sweet talk
We will have to be ashamed of
And in my breast cell
And in her heart instead
Beating wings breaking
This poor bird

I drank sweet wine to wash away the bitter taste
To forget all that has been started all over again
But soft beds, I did not know the rest
Because in sleep the bird screaming

In the strange place where the shadows again met each other
After a long journey after life hateful
One, I have to ask the good God -
To the poor bird
I forgive me

How do we hurt
Those who donate the sky
And for sweet talk
We will have to be ashamed of
And in my breast cell
And in her heart instead
Beating wings breaking
This poor bird