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mercredi 22 avril 2009
When the thorn bush turns white that's when I'll come home I am going out to see what I can slow...And I don't know where I'll go...And I don't know what I'll see But I'll try not to bring it back home with meLike the morning sun your eyes will follow me. As you watch me wander, curse the powers that be, Cause all I want is here and now but its already been and gone Our intentions always last that bit too long
Far far away, no voices sounding, no one around me and you're still there
Far far away, no choices passing, no time confounds me and you're still there
In the full moons light I listen to the stream And in between the silence hear you calling me. But I don't know where I am and I don't trust who I've been
And If I come home how will I ever leave
Libellés : Muse
0 El que pierde sentido de la orientación que compre una brújula y se la meta en el orto-