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Vertaling van: Acda en de Munnik - Het Woord Is Aan

Ah here come the voices of the drink, they are not a burden
even welcome.
They rarely come every week and really not one of them can count to more than 10.
No, then the voice of patience, so clever to go on your knees.
But from the height at which I protect myself, it often is hard
to understand.
And in the back, the voices of ambition, angry, because her 2nd plan just moved.
They still scream but you know, from a child's voice
you can't win.

The voices of addiction, oh so much, but then again just no drugs or
drink. But there is nicotine, sex machine, make money, until even I'm scared
of the stench.

And hear the voices of criticism, always at the front the highest word
making voices that do the same but outside, nothing new or
painfully heard.
The voices of delight are dear to me, they always fight with the voices
of haste. But I can't always listen from when we once and remember
and last.
The voices of delight are my photos and movies that I forget. Sometimes
some one comes and tell me about the skik as i drove from moheb to provo.

The floor is up to the voices of the drink, the floor is up to the voices
of criticism, the floor is up to the voices of ambition, but the voice of the
addictive music.
The floor is up to the voices of patience, delight that was
landed into the word

It's busy in the head very nice, so I trust the chill in it.
I have it every now and then, so quiet.
And it's always swinging, always things, the silence of sadness.
The floor is up to , the floor is up to.....the voices in my head.

ah ha ha ha ah ha ha.....