wide open falsehood the clan destine truths rival till the end in a series of duels pardon the drapery language I choose Waltz in Vienna has taught
My mind's at home here in this cold November breeze. This frost, it stabs my skin, and grays the branches of these trees. My breath is a ghost as it wafts
there in a box with your things, stabbed airholes, and one wing or white lung, when your well will you stay since there is a certain modern earth pain
No sleep No sleep for me No sleep No sleep for... Not what we wanted Not what we wanted to be Not what we came for Not what we came to be I think you
Back to the cold restless streets at night I talk to myself about tomorrow night Walls of white protest A gravestone in name Who is it now It's always
Per la tua mania di vivere in una citta guarda bene come "cia" (ci ha) conciati la metropoli. Belli come noi ben pochi sai ce n'erano e dicevano
Per la tua mania di vivere in una citta guarda bene come "cia" (ci ha) conciati la metropoli. Belli come noi ben pochi sai ce n'erano e dicevano quelli
il y avait un vieil arbre ; Et le vieil arbre penchait. Chaque annee, il penchait un peu plus... Et les gens de la maison aimaient beaucoup le vieil arbre
The trees they grow high, the leaves they do grow green Many is the time my true love I've seen Many an hour I have watched him all alone He's young,
Sous le tilleul, la sur la lande, vous trouvez bien le repaire vous qui passez regardez les herbes ecrasees par nos jeux et par nos pas devant le bois
In me cresce un albero alto... splendore nel sole Alla pioggia d'estate si apre ed ogni sua foglia canta. Abbracciato alla nera terra calda ed ogni sua
Gli alberi sono alti, le foglie crescon verdi Da quanto tempo non vedevi il tuo amore, da tanto, ed oggi e tornato tutto solo: e giovane ma crescera.
Are you still talking to All of those dead film stars Like you used to And are you still thinking of All of those pretty rhymes And perfect crimes Like
Feel the wind burn through my skin The pain, the air is killing me For years my limbs stretched to the sky A nest for birds to sit and sing But now my
Time: 3:09 Brother Publishing Co. BMI Brian Wilson/Jack Rieley Feel the wind burn through my skin The pain, the air is killing me For years my limbs