Nov 26, 2001, 11:33 PM
Some notes: The names herein are generic Finnish names and not vital to understanding the lyrics. And I've once again done the translation, by listening this 7min long song over and over again with incomplete and sometimes wrong lyrics on my screen.
So there.
Time to die (By: Ismo Alanko)
Old pieces tack the past time
New pieces tick like a bomb
In life so many good fools suffer
Like Pelkonen and Korhonen and that son of Rippiläinen
Gods and booze and the phases of women
mess up the head of everyone
Does it eat you already, the happy wait of lonely moments
Sweet longing dropped in the middle of hell
Is there wood on coal, in here?
Are you ready when it's time to die?
Are you cold or warm when it's time to die?
Everybody opens up the leaf a bit
Peeks carefully at the world outside
There are many good fools hanging around in life
Like Rautola and Ahola and that daughter of Matara
There's a lot of men women and children
But what is happening to everyone's heads?
Is the one hit in the blaze of sun the happy one?
A treacherous pitfall on the last meters of his strange life
Is there emptiness on emptiness, in here?
Are you ready, when it's time to die?
Are you warm or cold, when it's time to die?
Am I ready, when it's time to die?
Am I warm or cold, when it's time to die, away?
Similar, different, suitably strange
separate, sharp, never too happy
different, similar, and not strange at all
black and white and grey, and in addition just too happy
Similar, similar, where are they hiding?
Different, different, where they are?
It could be that we'll all meet in the same place
On the windswept rock, missing our papers
Is there wood on coal, in here?
Are you ready, when it's time to die
Are you warm or cold, when it's time to die?
(Stones for the three star vagabonds are like those of heroes'
Won't get from those hitch hikers there
Do I have money
Will I get from them?)
So there.
Time to die (By: Ismo Alanko)
Old pieces tack the past time
New pieces tick like a bomb
In life so many good fools suffer
Like Pelkonen and Korhonen and that son of Rippiläinen
Gods and booze and the phases of women
mess up the head of everyone
Does it eat you already, the happy wait of lonely moments
Sweet longing dropped in the middle of hell
Is there wood on coal, in here?
Are you ready when it's time to die?
Are you cold or warm when it's time to die?
Everybody opens up the leaf a bit
Peeks carefully at the world outside
There are many good fools hanging around in life
Like Rautola and Ahola and that daughter of Matara
There's a lot of men women and children
But what is happening to everyone's heads?
Is the one hit in the blaze of sun the happy one?
A treacherous pitfall on the last meters of his strange life
Is there emptiness on emptiness, in here?
Are you ready, when it's time to die?
Are you warm or cold, when it's time to die?
Am I ready, when it's time to die?
Am I warm or cold, when it's time to die, away?
Similar, different, suitably strange
separate, sharp, never too happy
different, similar, and not strange at all
black and white and grey, and in addition just too happy
Similar, similar, where are they hiding?
Different, different, where they are?
It could be that we'll all meet in the same place
On the windswept rock, missing our papers
Is there wood on coal, in here?
Are you ready, when it's time to die
Are you warm or cold, when it's time to die?
(Stones for the three star vagabonds are like those of heroes'
Won't get from those hitch hikers there
Do I have money
Will I get from them?)