Song | Bless the Lily, Bless the Rose |
Artist | Stone Breath |
Album | The Silver Skein Unwound |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : ? | |
Dead vines, entwined, root from your heart | |
and spread like fingers on your skin | |
No true love knot shall they weave | |
No true love, no, not for thee | |
The thorns shall pierce your eyes, | |
with dead thistle for your sighs | |
No rose petals for your path | |
No lily's leaf for your cries | |
All the birds I bring to you - | |
not to bless nor sing to you, | |
but to nest within your mouth | |
and fill you through and through with doubt | |
Come and see, and sigh, and cry, | |
and then breathe with cobweb breath | |
Red tears fall on the flowers | |
and their petals shall thus be blessed | |
Dead vines, entwined, root from your heart | |
and spread like fingers on your skin | |
No true love knot shall they weave | |
No true love, no, not for thee... |
zuo qu : ? | |
Dead vines, entwined, root from your heart | |
and spread like fingers on your skin | |
No true love knot shall they weave | |
No true love, no, not for thee | |
The thorns shall pierce your eyes, | |
with dead thistle for your sighs | |
No rose petals for your path | |
No lily' s leaf for your cries | |
All the birds I bring to you | |
not to bless nor sing to you, | |
but to nest within your mouth | |
and fill you through and through with doubt | |
Come and see, and sigh, and cry, | |
and then breathe with cobweb breath | |
Red tears fall on the flowers | |
and their petals shall thus be blessed | |
Dead vines, entwined, root from your heart | |
and spread like fingers on your skin | |
No true love knot shall they weave | |
No true love, no, not for thee... |
zuò qǔ : ? | |
Dead vines, entwined, root from your heart | |
and spread like fingers on your skin | |
No true love knot shall they weave | |
No true love, no, not for thee | |
The thorns shall pierce your eyes, | |
with dead thistle for your sighs | |
No rose petals for your path | |
No lily' s leaf for your cries | |
All the birds I bring to you | |
not to bless nor sing to you, | |
but to nest within your mouth | |
and fill you through and through with doubt | |
Come and see, and sigh, and cry, | |
and then breathe with cobweb breath | |
Red tears fall on the flowers | |
and their petals shall thus be blessed | |
Dead vines, entwined, root from your heart | |
and spread like fingers on your skin | |
No true love knot shall they weave | |
No true love, no, not for thee... |