Horse Feathers все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

Lover of things
Won't you agree
How the winter could bring
The darkest spring

With hell on your face
Dirt on the walls
In the back of the place

Lover of things,
won't you agree
how the winter could bring
the darkest spring?

With hell on your face,
dirt on the walls
in the back of the place,

Boys, they've got wicked things on their minds.
Before the father said you're toein' the line.
Like a finch on Saturday, sin with wings.
Give your tongue to God, on Sunday sing.

It all seems fine. These things are off your mind. Remember we're born to die,
but she was born to cry.
To cry herself to sleep.

To the news that was ripe with disease,
it's a sickness to say what they please,
as the sycophants tire of their worthless wind,
and realize they're plots far too thin,
as they vye for the right side of an aisle,
with the black and white thoughts of a child

saying,

Unruly type of sun, willing to spare no one
From the plains up to the peaks
This heat's stealing faith from the weak

Amidst the burning breeze
From the ground up through the trees
I hear the birds complain about the lack of the rain

An old love of mine to wed the worst man she finds.
A blossom that’s bloomed, in a house that’s a tomb, trapped in the rhododendron fumes.
Bit by the Spring, Hurt by the thing, Plagued by the memories that it brings.
No peace in the miles, there’s word of the coming of a child.
The broke can still break, oh, what time can take, somewhere in the rules lies the stakes.
Bit by the Spring, Hurt by the thing, Plagued by the memories that it brings.
Bride to be, my only friend, is leaving me, in a Spring with no end.
Bride to be, my only friend.