Текст песни Deep Forbidden Lake - Neil Young
                                                On 
                                                the 
                                                lake, 
                                                the 
                                                deep 
                                                forbidden 
                                                lake,
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                old 
                                                boats 
                                                go 
                                                gliding 
                                                by,
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                the 
                                                leaves 
                                                are 
                                                falling 
                                                from 
                                                the 
                                                trees
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                landing 
                                                on 
                                                the 
                                                logs 
                                                and 
                                                I
 
                                    
                                
                                                See 
                                                the 
                                                turtles 
                                                heading 
                                                for 
                                                the 
                                                bog
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                falling 
                                                off 
                                                the 
                                                log.
 
                                    
                                
                                                They 
                                                make 
                                                the 
                                                water 
                                                splash,
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                feeling 
                                                no 
                                                backlash,
 
                                    
                                
                                                They 
                                                climb 
                                                the 
                                                happy 
                                                banks.
 
                                    
                                
                                                On 
                                                the 
                                                boats, 
                                                the 
                                                old 
                                                and 
                                                creaky 
                                                boats,
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                shoreline 
                                                goes 
                                                gliding 
                                                by,
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                the 
                                                wind, 
                                                there 
                                                was 
                                                    a 
                                                dying 
                                                breeze,
 
                                    
                                
                                                Is 
                                                making 
                                                the 
                                                banners 
                                                fly.
 
                                    
                                
                                                See 
                                                the 
                                                colors, 
                                                floating 
                                                in 
                                                the 
                                                sky,
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                pride 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                captain's 
                                                eye,
 
                                    
                                
                                                As 
                                                he 
                                                glides
 
                                    
                                
                                                His 
                                                slender 
                                                craft 
                                                inside
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                opens 
                                                up 
                                                the 
                                                door.
 
                                    
                                
                                                On 
                                                the 
                                                coast, 
                                                the 
                                                long 
                                                and 
                                                tempting 
                                                coast,
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                cards 
                                                on 
                                                the 
                                                table 
                                                lie,
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                    a 
                                                speech, 
                                                so 
                                                eloquent 
                                                in 
                                                reach,
 
                                    
                                
                                                Was 
                                                made 
                                                by 
                                                    a 
                                                passerby,
 
                                    
                                
                                                Passing 
                                                by 
                                                the 
                                                way 
                                                between
 
                                    
                                
                                                Here 
                                                and 
                                                left 
                                                behind.
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                it 
                                                ripples 
                                                through 
                                                the 
                                                crowds
 
                                    
                                
                                                Who 
                                                run 
                                                and 
                                                cast 
                                                their 
                                                doubts
 
                                    
                                
                                                In 
                                                the 
                                                deep 
                                                forbidden 
                                                lake.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Yes, 
                                                it 
                                                echoes 
                                                through 
                                                the 
                                                crowds
 
                                    
                                
                                                Who 
                                                run 
                                                and 
                                                cast 
                                                their 
                                                doubts
 
                                    
                                
                                                In 
                                                the 
                                                deep 
                                                forbidden 
                                                lake.
 
                                    
                                
                            
                                Альбом
                                
Decade                                
                                
                            
                        1 Tired Eyes
2 Tonight's the Night, Part 1
3 I Believe in You
4 Southern Man
5 Deep Forbidden Lake
6 Winterlong
7 Soldier
8 I Am a Child
9 Campaigner
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