December
Sunday 5 April 2009 photo 5/6
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Sweet revenge is spoken then;
In the twilight it is gone.
To living lies with no escape
Lord, I would rather be alone.
I press my fingers to the wood,
to tell you of my dreaming,
to sing your songs from olden times,
to keep the love light gleaming
'cause there's a place where we can go
where we will not be parted.
And who alone will enter there?
Only the broken hearted
In the twilight it is gone.
To living lies with no escape
Lord, I would rather be alone.
I press my fingers to the wood,
to tell you of my dreaming,
to sing your songs from olden times,
to keep the love light gleaming
'cause there's a place where we can go
where we will not be parted.
And who alone will enter there?
Only the broken hearted
Annons
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