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[Hermiona1334]

Dżem - Ballada o dzinym malarzu
Puste kieszenie i torba pełna snów,
Oto malarz dziwny, który bywał tu.
Wszyscy go znali, wiedzieli o tym, że:
Duszę swyą zaprzedał światu pędzli stu.

Nie wierzył ludziom i sobie chyba też,
Zbyt wiele bólu doznał, za dużo wylał łez.
Karmiony pogardą i rzuconym groszem,
ćzęsto tu siedział, obrazy sprzedać chciał.

Kto choć jeden kupi dziś?
Nie widziałeś, skręcasz w lewo, chcesz już iść.
A być może, gdy zobaczysz właśnie je
Znajdziesz słabość swą i marzenia blask.
Kto wie?

Życie swe zamienił w deliryczny sen,
Gubiąc gdzieś po drodze prawdę swą i sens.
By W końcu się odważyć i zapukać tam,
Gdzie teraz białą farbą maluje wieczny czas.

Kto choć jeden kupi dziś...

David Bowie - Heroes
I, I will be king
And you, you will be queen
Though nothing will drive them away
We can beat them, just for one day
We can be Heroes, just for one day

And you, you can be mean
And I, I'll drink all the time
'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact
Yes we're lovers, and that is that

Though nothing, will keep us together
We could steal time,
just for one day
We can be Heroes, for ever and ever
What d'you say?

I, I wish you could swim
Like the dolphins, like dolphins can swim
Though nothing,
nothing will keep us together
We can beat them, for ever and ever
Oh we can be Heroes,
just for one day

I, I will be king
And you, you will be queen
Though nothing will drive them away
We can be Heroes, just for one day
We can be us, just for one day

I, I can remember (I remember)
Standing, by the wall (by the wall)
And the guns shot above our heads
(over our heads)
And we kissed,
as though nothing could fall
(nothing could fall)
And the shame was on the other side
Oh we can beat them, for ever and ever
Then we could be Heroes,
just for one day

We can be Heroes
We can be Heroes
We can be Heroes
Just for one day
We can be Heroes

We're nothing, and nothing will help us
Maybe we're lying,
then you better not stay
But we could be safer,
just for one day

Oh-oh-oh-ohh, oh-oh-oh-ohh,
just for one day.

King Crimson - Epitaph
The wall on which the prophets wrote
Is cracking at the seams.
Upon the instruments of death
The sunlight brightly gleams.
When every man is torn apart
With nightmares and with dreams,
Will no one lay the laurel wreath
As silence drowns the screams.

Between the iron gates of fate,
The seeds of time werde sown.
And watered by the deeds of those
Who know and who are known;
When no one sets the rules.
The fate of all mankind I see
Is in the hands of fools.

Confusion will be my epitaph.
As I crawl a cracked and broken path
If we make it we can all sit back and laugh.
But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying.
Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying.