fan vidding

How long through the storms and the dead mist our old frigate wanders.

The veins on the forehead explode from fear. What kind of pirate are you, boy?

Compasses, piastres and other dregs. Curses are empty words.

Lord almighty, let us drown for reliability two times.

Fifteen men on the dead man's chest—

...Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!

Drink and the devil had done for the rest—

...Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!

We are a mismatch noise of ravens. We are the pain of a ruined land.

Tell this truth. Be afraid of lies. We all could not do anything.

Plumbic throat, bad head. I do not whisper and sing.

Where fog is, wolves lick the dew in the morning. Where there is deception, in a forest boarded up from all. She lives - my unborn wife, My pain. My blood. My hidden love ...

And on a piece of cardboard I again paint a witch, Mysterious witch with green eyes. To wake up at midnight pierce her with a needle, So that this witch becomes a simple-looking carton ...

There the ocean, the captains catch a wave at night. There, Ackermann, a humid wind hits the string. There is a cross, a ring and a transparent face on fire. My pain. My blood. My damn love.

And on a piece of cardboard I again paint a witch, Mysterious witch with green eyes. To wake up at midnight pierce her with a needle, So that this witch becomes a simple-looking carton ...