Free Four
By Pink Floyd
1972
4:16
Official Music Video
Free Four by Pink Floyd
Lyrics & Translation
English
One, two, free, four!
The memories of a man in his old age
Are the deeds of a man in his prime
You shuffle in gloom of the sickroom
And talk to yourself as you die
Life is a short, warm moment
And death is a long, cold rest
You get your chance to try in the twinkling of an eye
Eighty years, with luck, or even less
So all aboard for the American tour
And maybe you'll make it to the top
And mind how you go, and I can tell you, 'cause I know
You may find it hard to get off
You are the angel of death
And I am the dead man's son
And he was buried like a mole in a fox hole
And everyone is still on the run
And who is the master of fox hounds?
And who says the hunt has begun?
And who calls the tune in the courtroom?
And who beats the funeral drum?
The memories of a man in his old age
Are the deeds of a man in his prime
You shuffle in gloom in the sickroom
And talk to yourself as you die
Spanish translations are provided by the LyricVerse team.
Spanish translation of Free Four by Pink Floyd
Free Four* (original Pink Floyd)
One, two, free, four!
The memories of a man in his old age
Are the deeds of a man in his prime
You shuffle in gloom of the sickroom
And talk to yourself as you die
Life is a short, warm moment
And death is a long, cold rest
You get your chance to try in the twinkling of an eye
Eighty years, with luck, or even less
So all aboard for the American tour
And maybe you'll make it to the top
And mind how you go, and I can tell you, 'cause I know
You may find it hard to get off
You are the angel of death
And I am the dead man's son
And he was buried like a mole in a fox hole
And everyone is still on the run
And who is the master of fox hounds?
And who says the hunt has begun?
And who calls the tune in the courtroom?
And who beats the funeral drum?
The memories of a man in his old age
Are the deeds of a man in his prime
You shuffle in gloom in the sickroom
And talk to yourself as you die
Free Four (traducción LyricVerse Team)
¡Uno, dos, libre, cuatro!
Los recuerdos de un hombre en su vejez
Son las obras de un hombre en su mejor momento
Te arrastras en la penumbra de la habitación del enfermo
Y hablas contigo mismo mientras mueres
La vida es un momento corto y cálido
Y la muerte es un descanso largo y frío
Tienes tu oportunidad de intentarlo en un abrir y cerrar de ojos
Ochenta años, con suerte, o incluso menos
Así que todos a bordo para la gira americana
Y quizás llegues a la cima
Y ten cuidado cómo vas, y te lo puedo decir, porque lo sé
Puede que te resulte difícil bajarte
Tú eres el ángel de la muerte
Y yo soy el hijo del hombre muerto
Y fue enterrado como un topo en una madriguera
Y todos siguen huyendo
¿Y quién es el amo de los perros de caza?
¿Y quién dice que la caza ha comenzado?
¿Y quién pone la música en la sala del tribunal?
¿Y quién toca el tambor fúnebre?
Los recuerdos de un hombre en su vejez
Son las obras de un hombre en su mejor momento
Te arrastras en la penumbra de la habitación del enfermo
Y hablas contigo mismo mientras mueres
Lyrics provided by LyricVerse • Visit us at lyricverse.com
