Nhạc sĩ: Peter Von Poehl | Lời: Peter Von Poehl
Lời đăng bởi: 86_15635588878_1671185229650
Our house is dark while sleeping,
it's five o'clock.
One man speaking on finish lines,
a miraculous find.
It's clattering.
Twenty-one,
a mocking son, deep in fatherland.
Twelve,
twenty-one,
soon as said and done,
just like father,
like son.
Us,
one man to another,
are talking as two brothers.
The third one's got plans,
as if by demand.
On this lost day of the season,
and a circle of worldly reasons,
time has moved on.
What have I done?
Twelve,
twenty-one,
a mocking son, deep in father.
Twelve,
twenty-one,
soon as said and done, just like father,
like son.
