Song | Air |
Artist | Abbie Gale |
Album | 2 |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
The days are heavy the hours a lot to bear | |
In Europe there’s fresh air | |
Or is it long past gone | |
For the air is something everybody needs | |
But no one ever cared | |
Dor me the way you did | |
Give me the air, give me the wings | |
To fly away | |
The war has started two thousand years ago | |
And Jesus still gets nailed | |
To the cross that everyone builds | |
This cross is the field of your sickness | |
His boredom | |
Her fears | |
And my sins | |
And our last chance | |
To not fear | |
Do not fear |
The days are heavy the hours a lot to bear | |
In Europe there' s fresh air | |
Or is it long past gone | |
For the air is something everybody needs | |
But no one ever cared | |
Dor me the way you did | |
Give me the air, give me the wings | |
To fly away | |
The war has started two thousand years ago | |
And Jesus still gets nailed | |
To the cross that everyone builds | |
This cross is the field of your sickness | |
His boredom | |
Her fears | |
And my sins | |
And our last chance | |
To not fear | |
Do not fear |
The days are heavy the hours a lot to bear | |
In Europe there' s fresh air | |
Or is it long past gone | |
For the air is something everybody needs | |
But no one ever cared | |
Dor me the way you did | |
Give me the air, give me the wings | |
To fly away | |
The war has started two thousand years ago | |
And Jesus still gets nailed | |
To the cross that everyone builds | |
This cross is the field of your sickness | |
His boredom | |
Her fears | |
And my sins | |
And our last chance | |
To not fear | |
Do not fear |