Текст песни Rider

Baby's ball is all blood red of flayed pigs
and silk soft little things
fill a house hung from strings
and I fly out on my silver, scissoring wings
(with the other sardines)
over cities of things mommies need --
light as gas, and half-assedly free,
like I was in nineteen ninety three.

Over the ruins like we're staggering apes.
What we get is what we take
in a split open place where a man can get kinged
in a palace of panic and flames
where nobody gets blamed by the tired,
and broke down, and beat. In sunken gardens
where there was a street.

West over water I rambled and paced,
and the blood river raced like the sweat down my face.
And the stadium roared. And the warriors embraced.
And the golden shore groanedOkkervil River - Rider - http://ru.motolyrics.com/okkervil-river/rider-lyrics.html
beneath the weight of my tastes. And I blazed
in the last orange hours of the day,
until the dust hazed and hid us away.

So, little baby, be brave.
I see your dad riding over the rise,
crashing his whole cavalcade through the crowd.
Watch them run on all sides.

And the neon white branches,
and the carrion fly
on a congressman's eye
I have wrapped up for you in some old autumn leaves,
and left under a rock out on Rockaway Beach,
beneath the trees.

I have laughed my best hiss to the whistling breeze.
There's a hole in my throat.
You can note my last wheeze if you need.
And then take hold of the rope
and down we scream.