Часть 3. Человек, который продал мир

Поздно ночью, в уютном, освещенном свечами зале бара, «Дружище» О'Тип, легко касаясь клавиш пианино, напевал своим мягким голосом. Несколько полуночников, сидящих за стойкой бара, слушали его пение, и если бы они посмотрели повнимательнее, то заметили бы озорство и знание, мерцающее в его глазах.

We passed upon the stair, we spoke of was and when

Although I wasn't there, he said I was his friend

Which came as some surprise I spoke into his eyes

I thought you died alone, a long long time ago

Oh no, not me

I never lost control

You're face to face

With The Man Who Sold The World

I laughed and shook his hand,

and made my way back home

I searched for form and land,

for years and years I roamed

I gazed a gazely stare at all the millions here

We must have died along, a long long time ago

Who knows? not me

We never lost control

You're face to face

With the Man who Sold the World