Текст и перевод песни Moja Rec - Ďalšia story

Ďalšia story

Tento príbeh nemá dobrý koniec, ani dobrý začiatok,
Skoro nič v ňom nie je dobré.
Chlapcovi zachutilo zakázané ovocie,
A ochutnal tie kvety zla jak baudelaire.

All day, every day, už len naháňal ten sen,
Chcel cítiť mrazenie opäť.
Našli ho bez života ráno, oči prázdne, pery modré,
V slúchadlách pustený coldplay.

V rukách držal zošit,v zošite boli básne,
V tých básňach bola bolesť a tie slova boli krásne.
Z riadkov tiekla pravda, hnev, nenávisť, aj láska,
Príbehy mali iskru, ako oheň keď zapraská.

Čakáš že ich zobral nejaký milý, dobrý človek,
Vydal ich pod jeho menom, jeho blízkym poslal love,
Bohužiaľ nie, ten zošit skončil v koši,
A prečo ti to vravím, neviem, proste ďalšia story.

Nechaj ma povedať ti story,
Vždy som mal rád príbehy, nemôžem si pomôcť, sorry.
Tak ak sa svet točí, tak moje pero píše,
Kým dni striedajú noci.

Nechaj ma povedať ti story,
Vždy som mal rád príbehy, nemôžem si pomôcť, sorry.
Tak ak sa svet točí, tak moje pero píše,
Kým dni striedajú noci.

Slabo mrholilo, ledva na stierače,
Vypol motor, ale ostal sedieť radšej v aute.
Zapálil si cígo, je to také trápne,
Špehovať vlastnú ženu, ako chodí naspäť z práce.

Veľmi chcel, že by ju prichytil ísť s niekým domov,
Aby si pred zrkadlom vydýchli že neni kokot.
Aby bolo okej, že jej lezie do phonu,
Aby mal pravdu a nie chorobu.

Zopár minút od domu ju predbehol a zaparkoval,
Aby keď príde bolo vidieť, že ju čaká doma.
A aj keď hovno zistil, choval sa jak sociopat,
Keby nie sú na prízemí, tak už dávno skočí z okna.

Morfoval na svojho fotra, žralo ho to zaživa,
Reval na ňu s kým sa vláčila, až kým sa zbláznila.
A keď zaspal zapla žehličku a tou ho spálila,
Podľa súdu konala v afekte len sa bránila.
Happy end

Nechaj ma povedať ti story,
Vždy som mal rád príbehy, nemôžem si pomôcť, sorry.
Tak ak sa svet točí, tak moje pero píše,
Kým dni striedajú noci.

Nechaj ma povedať ti story,
Vždy som mal rád príbehy, nemôžem si pomôcť, sorry.
Tak ak sa svet točí, tak moje pero píše,
Kým dni striedajú noci.

Another Story

This story has no happy ending, no happy beginning,
Almost nothing in it is good.
The boy took a taste of the forbidden fruit,
And tasted the flowers of evil like Baudelaire.

All day, every day, he chased that dream,
He wanted to feel the chills again.
They found him lifeless in the morning, eyes empty, lips blue,
Coldplay playing in his headphones.

In his hands he held a notebook, in the notebook were poems,
In those poems was pain and the words were beautiful.
Truth, anger, hatred, and love flowed from the lines,
The stories had a spark, like a fire when it crackles.

You expect some kind, good person took them,
Published them under his name, sent love to his loved ones,
Unfortunately not, that notebook ended up in the trash,
And why am I telling you this, I don't know, just another story.

Let me tell you a story,
I've always loved stories, I can't help it, sorry.
So if the world is spinning, then my pen is writing,
While days turn into nights.

Let me tell you a story,
I've always loved stories, I can't help it, sorry.
So if the world is spinning, then my pen is writing,
While days turn into nights.

It was drizzling weakly, barely enough for the wipers,
He turned off the engine, but preferred to stay in the car.
He lit a cigarette, it's so pathetic,
Spying on his own wife, as she walks back from work.

He really wanted to catch her going home with someone,
So they could breathe a sigh of relief in front of the mirror that he's not a dick.
So that it's okay that he's getting into her phone,
So that he's right and not sick.

A few minutes from the house he overtook her and parked,
So that when she arrives she can see that he's waiting for her at home.
And even though he found out shit, he acted like a sociopath,
If they weren't on the ground floor, he'd have jumped out the window long ago.

He was morphing into his father, it was eating him alive,
He yelled at her who she was hanging out with, until she went crazy.
And when he fell asleep she turned on the iron and burned him with it,
According to the court, she acted in affect, she was just defending herself.
Happy end

Let me tell you a story,
I've always loved stories, I can't help it, sorry.
So if the world is spinning, then my pen is writing,
While days turn into nights.

Let me tell you a story,
I've always loved stories, I can't help it, sorry.
So if the world is spinning, then my pen is writing,
While days turn into nights.