Strange music plays and behind the curtain the adorned case disappears, a lump in the throat. Someone has just reached the end of the line, another chapter closes... closes. The present mourners stand in black, you would search in vain for a smile on their faces. They stare stiffly and know all too well, that life is two dates on a calendar. Being the main character is nothing to aspire to, In the cremation furnace, his name is erased. Whether you're twenty or ninety, "Memento Mori" applies to everyone... to everyone. He stood there, standing still, the one who always knows when to give and take... He stood there, his voice trembling, he came to say: "I was your time!" (2x) Only the dead dance, joints cracking, burning in the fire. Travolta just shakes his head. No one can match this "Dance of Doom". Only the dead dance, who wants this "spectacle"? The last break and then goodbye, as death's roulette spins! (2x) Only the dead dance, joints cracking, burning in the fire. Travolta just shakes his head. No one can match this "Dance of Doom". Only the dead dance, who wants this "spectacle"? The last break and then goodbye, as death's roulette spins!

Ale nejaky velky znalec😂

@@ivobuchtela3914 Tak v tomhle knedlíkovitym, normalizačnim metálku s příchutí buřta na tácku jsme všichni vyrostli a zněl v každý vesnický hospodě, na to neni třeba bejt znalcem, štěstí je naopak tohle nepoznat :))

Je tam hromada lidí, jsou tam lokace, technika a bůhví kolik dní práce. Zkušeností atd. Když nevíte o čem ta práce je, tak se k tomu raději nevyjadřujte.