1. |
Jemmye Grove
02:52
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Come with me across the wall
we can live so close to mexico
We can dance before the fall
be'n snow or ash or leaf, lets go
witch boy, never love a witch boy
We dont' care what you do
Witch girl, never love a witch boy
My soul is mine
my heart belongs to you
Come live with me in deep cedar woods
we'll dig for clams
we'll dance through the mud
We could live com-pa-letely free
just a boat in the fog and the beach, and me
Oh you laughed and you laughed
When I asked you to stay
so give us the word, we'll be on our way
and give us the world, it dances in your heart
I've boots on my feet and I've got a head start
O' Witch boy, never love a witch girl
She's off picking heather on the Tuatha's hill
Oh witch boy, can never love a witch boy
'scape past the wall with all that you will
Witch boy never love a witch boy
they spit at the sun
and dance with the moon
Witch boy, never love a witch boy
oh the bells are pealing
And you are leaving
if we are leaving
it must be soon
So we made our escape in the moonlit of night
and the dogs at our heels quite put us to flight
Made a hole in the wall with the cut of a knife
now we're off to the taiga to make a new life
Come with me across the wall
we can live so close to mexico
We can dance before the fall
be'n snow or ash or leaf, lets go
witch boy, never love a witch boy
We dont' care what you do
Witch girl, never love a witch boy
My heart is mine
but my soul belongs with -
witch boy, never love a witch boy
We dont' care what you do
Witch girl, never love a witch boy
My heart is mine...
but my soul belongs with you
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2. |
The Dreamer
04:14
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I have dreamt of towers made entirely of flowers,
so the wind will bring this fallow streets to seed,
And I have stolen sunlight though I have no claim or birthright,
but this world is new and dreams don't build themselves,
The world outside it reeks of broken man,
The Armageddon Clocks pitch fevered hands,
And I will break, the potted plants upon the ground,
So I can better understand the world I build inside of myself.
In cold november I've committed snow to memory,
and sewn it fast to checker-table clouds,
And though the Moon now rises smeared upon the broken sky she,
Sheds her tattered cloak and dons my shroud,
The world outside it reeks of broken man,
The Armageddon Clocks pitch fevered hands,
And I will break, the potted plants upon the ground,
So I can better understand the world I build inside of myself.
And now flies the end storm, on raven back, billowing wild,
And the ants lift the concrete in swarms, reducing it all down to tile,
And I stand attention, stuck in the door frame,
Watching the world end this disfigured terrain,
And my is the kingdom, the power and the glory,
But something is nagging, making me sorry,
I ever tried to build something better.
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Daniel Hoy British Columbia
Hi hi
I don't recommend hearts and other junk. it is, as the titles suggests, junk.
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