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The Crow & the Nightingale
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Marillion
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Thank you for your words of longing It doesn’t really matter whether or not I understood them Doesn’t really matter where they take me Or how they take me A witch-black hill in a storm An unruly sea of salt-frozen fear Or a paradise of palms As long as it’s not here As long as it’s not here But a rooftop I can go, to scream above the birds Adding my dull sheen to your brilliant words A job for Christo Wrapping the sun with silk Wrapping the sun Wrapping the sun with silk Wrapping the sun Wrapping the sun with silk Make it something that can be looked at without hurting I can try I can’t fly but I’ll open my rough beak Squawk at the sky The crow and thе nightingale I can’t fly but I’ll open my rough beak Squawk at thе sky The crow and the nightingale The crow and the nightingale Wrapping the sun with silk Wrapping the sun Wrapping the sun with silk Make it something Better than blindness Better than darkness Make it something that can be looked at Without hurting Without hurting Locking Helen of Troy in a padded room Behind frosted gla** Howlin’ at the moon Squawking at the sky A racket And a tune
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Ton pseudo sera publié. Laisses les champs vide pour rester anonyme.
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