walking down By the river too She would show me everything that night By the river too (In the river) My heart (In the river) In your hands (In the river
Traduction: Sense Field. River.
you Cross a lonely field as birds begin to speak Its alright Its ok Blue, true Blue, true Cry about it shout about it You feel that there?s no sense
I might have been queen I remember the girl in the fields with no name She had a love Oh, but the rivers won't stop for me No, the rivers won't stop for
afterglow of an old religion. One can imagine them sentient - that is to say, we may attribute to stone-hardness, one after the other, our own five senses
sense Well there's too much suffering and confusion And I'm walking down by the river Oh, let me understand religion Way, way back, way back When you walked, in a green field
, forever together your heart is my home your heart is my home the golden field, the sense of red nights there's something lost cause we've forgotten to fight the field
In the fields of sweet Ambrosia I've been told You can sit down by the river and watch yourself unfold You can drink right from the river And purify your
a shadow in my way My dried out body's got no shelter from the sun What's coming over me to hell, what's coming over me? I'm stumbling through these fields
to be a monkey To see the sense it makes DRY RAIN You said you'd make it grow You said you'd make it green But I see dusty fields Broken rock is all
home Together again Yeah forever together Your heart is my home The golden field, the sense of red nights There's something lost Cause we've forgotten to fight The field
I might have been queen I remember the girl in the fields with no name She had a love Oh but the river won't stop for me No the river won't stop for
might have been queen I remember the girl in the fields with no name She had a love Oh, but the rivers won't stop for me No, the rivers won't stop for
-away of dead Somatic sense ...Behold - entranced... Creative tears are shed - Eschatological, remixing colours of dead world Regnal age Of beauty; ancient, storming River
lonely field as birds begin to speak Its alright (Alright) It's okay (Okay) Blue, true Blue, true Cry about it Shout about it You feel that there's no sense
I don't do this For every jesus, there must be a judas It's the concept of the house nigga, field nigga The house nigga will sell you up the river So
Adapting mental vomiting spew in the face of you Architect of the demented specimen The volatile synthetic grin, the third eye sense Low life appearance