Said once, I ode and cease Bangladesh
Where such danced and sang cravenness
Every part of you, heaven swears but sows
Biding minds and the coast
Would I owe to dream of Marrakesh?
Or saints of old in all omens
In tombs, and gold flake publishments
In age, and find you equal rest?
Of the color we are a kind
On an arrow, a paying crest with time
Ooh, would I owe to dream of Marrakesh
Or saints of all in all trances?
In tombs and gold flake cobble fence
In age, and find you equal rest
That would pass if life punished past?
Pray, say this of a name, let boast
In rubric, steam the fleece and Bible robes
A bit prevailed at most
Who knows exine, saint?
Love the sweet hours with love to make
Love the sweet hours with love to make
Love the sweet hours with love
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
