Music, it's just not a word that means a catchy sound, it means many things. Life, love, pain, tears, smiles, anything Ты want it to be.
Many people know the song "American Pie" by Don McLean and one line is "Can Музыка save your mortal soul?" That line speaks the truth. Without music, what would this world be? Музыка is in everything. Heck, Ты can't even watch a TV without background music. или Ты can't walk out of a baseball game without a man playing The Simpsons theme song on a trumpet. It brings joy to people in their everyday lives.
My dad took my older brother and I to a Bruce Springsteen концерт when I was seven. It was my first концерт and I knew that rock was going to be my Избранное type of Музыка for as long a I lived. Now it's been fourteen years since that концерт and now my Избранное band is Оружие N Розы and many others.
Without music, what would this world be? It saves the world from dullness.
So the Вопрос is: Can Музыка Save Your Mortal Soul?
I say yes
Many people know the song "American Pie" by Don McLean and one line is "Can Музыка save your mortal soul?" That line speaks the truth. Without music, what would this world be? Музыка is in everything. Heck, Ты can't even watch a TV without background music. или Ты can't walk out of a baseball game without a man playing The Simpsons theme song on a trumpet. It brings joy to people in their everyday lives.
My dad took my older brother and I to a Bruce Springsteen концерт when I was seven. It was my first концерт and I knew that rock was going to be my Избранное type of Музыка for as long a I lived. Now it's been fourteen years since that концерт and now my Избранное band is Оружие N Розы and many others.
Without music, what would this world be? It saves the world from dullness.
So the Вопрос is: Can Музыка Save Your Mortal Soul?
I say yes
They don't go to heaven where the Ангелы fly
They go to the lake of огонь and fry
Won't see em again 'till the fourth of July
I knew a lady who came from Duluth
She got bit by a dog with a rabid tooth
She went to her grave just a little too soon
And she flew away howling on the yellow moon
Where do bad folks go when they die?
They don't go to heaven where the Ангелы fly
They go down to the lake of огонь and fry
Won't see em again 'till the fourth of July
Now the people cry and the people moan
And they look for a dry place to call their home
And try to find some place to rest their bones
While the Ангелы and the devils try to make them their own
Where do bad folks go when they die?
They don't go to heaven where the Ангелы fly
They go down to the lake of огонь and fry
Won't see em again 'till the fourth of July