Текст песни Tragic Youth - Charlene Soraia
Must
I
commit
my
tragic
youth
to
history
Am
I
not
still
to
recall
when
I
need
In
my
lonely
hours
they
wonder
like
a
vicious
mystery
Can
I
rewrite
the
tale
that
often
makes
me
travel
blindly
My
younger
years
were
often
spent
in
silence
Lest
my
wooden
friends
felt
estranged
We
entangled
ourselves
in
thoughts
of
freedom's
violence
And
bottled
the
brew
of
our
strangest
thoughts,
deranged
Delinquent
little
darlings
we
were
not
We
said
the
right
things
to
keep
us
all
off
The
hook
that
don't
exist
no
more
Soon
you
will
be
called
for
the
unknowing
Nobody
will
miss
you
when
you're
gone
You
may
come
back
a
shell
of
your
former
self
But
obedient
you
will
become
with
love
Delinquent
little
darlings
we
were
not
We
said
the
right
things
to
get
us
all
off
The
hook
that
don't
exist
no
more
B.B
gets
what
he
wants
When
he
needs
what
he
wants
What
he
feeds
us
all
from
Don't
bite
that
hand
of
Zion
Come
come
come
come
come
comrades
Our
Big
Brother
loves
us
much
Come
come
come
come
come
comrades
Our
Big
Brother
loves
us
much
more
than
those
Old
fashioned
mothers
Delinquent
little
darlings
we
were
not
We
said
the
right
things
to
get
us
all
off
The
hook
that
don't
exist
no
more
Cause
B.B
gets
what
he
wants
When
he
needs
what
he
wants
What
he
feeds
us
all
from
Don't
bite
that
hand
of
Zion
The
lions
den
Bionic
Zionic
men
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