The Last Good Day Of The Year
Don't tell me
that you get sick of living
when the summer's so forgiving
although we have stolen
all of the things that we though
we had owned then
have disappeared
all these things in flavour
won't do you no favours
when the summer's light is fragrant
with scents of returning
you relent, you resent, now you're burning
for nothing to change....
there's something there...
(amongst the fallen fruit and flowers)
won't rest
(only minutes, only hours)
unless
(now the morning breaks in showers)
I guess
we'll remember this all of our lives
on the Last Good Day of The Year
all the leaves are turning
Autumn's fingers burnished
furnished here in hope and in faith in the meantime
kinda working my way through a dream I
was having alone
there's something there...
(amongst the fallen fruit and flowers)
won't rest
(only minutes, only hours)
unless
(now the morning breaks in showers)
I'm left
with the North Wind breathing down my neck...
on The Last Good Day of The Year.....
(don't know where I end and where you begin...)
Wpada do biura Kowalski, tak jak stworzyl go Pan Bog, na glowie kapelusz, w reku teczka. Kierownik krzyczy:
- Czyscie Kowalski zwariowali, nago do pracy?!
Kowalski:
- Panie Kierowniku, bo to bylo tak: bylem na balandze u mojej znajomej. W pewnym momencie gasnie swiatlo i slychac haslo - krawaty na zyrandol. ?wiatlo sie zapala, wszystkie krawaty na zyrandolu. Gasnie swiatlo, haslo - Panie do naga. Zapala sie, wszystkie Panie nago. Znowu gasnie swiatlo, haslo - Panowie do naga. Zapala sie - Panowie nago. Gasnie po raz kolejny, haslo - Panowie do roboty...
No to zlapalem teczke i kapelusz i przybieglem.
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