Иногда, слушая англицкие песни, предпочитаю не вслушиваться и не вдумываться в слова, а по умолчанию принимаю, что там офигенный скрытый смысл, и просто наслаждаюсь музыкой.
А тут что-то потянуло вкурить, о чем песня Стинга "Shape of my heart". Оказывается, об игре в карты
читать дальшеHe deals the cards as a meditation
And those he plays never suspect
He doesn't play for the money he wins
He don't play for respect
He deals the cards to find the answer
The sacred geometry of chance
The hidden law of a probable outcome
The numbers lead a dance
I know that the spades are the swords
of a soldier
I know that the clubs are weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money for
this art
But that's not the shape of my heart
He may play the jack of diamonds
He may lay the queen of spades
He may conceal a king in his hand
While the memory of it fades
I know that the spades are the swords
of a soldier
I know that the clubs are
weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money
for this art
But that's not the shape of my heart
That's not the shape, the shape
of my heart
And if I told you that I loved you
You'd maybe think there's
something wrong
I'm not a man of too many faces
The mask I wear is one
Well, those who speak know nothin'
And find out to their cost
Like those who curse their luck in too
many places
And those who fear are lost
I know that the spades are the swords
of a soldier
I know that the clubs are
weapons of war
I know that diamonds mean money
for this art
But that's not the shape of my heart
That's not the shape of my heart,
That's not the shape, shape of my heart