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There are very few women |
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Who sing of this yoke's golden sting |
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And tie my heart to the string of weeping |
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There are very few men |
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Who cry for wine of blood and rye |
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And cut out my heart |
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For the wild love of weeping |
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Oh, sister fine, fine, fine, easy |
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I know it's been hell not to touch |
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Oh, sister, mine, mine, mine, easy |
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I never wanted you that much |
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Oh, sister mine, oh |
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How natural it all seemed then |
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And how remote and impossible now |
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Oh, sister mine, oh |
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How beautiful it all seemed then |
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And how sick and detestable now |
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Oh, sister fine, fine, fine, easy |
|
I know it's been hell not to touch |
|
Oh, sister mine, mine, mine, easy |
|
I never wanted you so much |
|
There are very few women |
|
Who sing of this yoke's golden sting |
|
And tie my heart to the string of weeping |
|
There are very few men |
|
Who cry for wine of blood and rye |
|
And cut out my heart |
|
For the wild love of weeping |
|
There are very few seas left to sail |
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For someone like me who by theft and jail |
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Was made to bleed and left so frail |
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There are very few seas left to sail |
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For the likes of me who though apt to sail |
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Were made to conceal and had to fail |
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Oh, sister fine, fine, fine, easy |
|
I know it's been hell not to touch |
|
Oh, sister mine, mine, mine, easy |
|
I never wanted you that much |
|
Oh, sister fine, fine, fine, easy |
|
I know it's been hell not to touch |
|
Oh, sister mine, mine, mine, easy |
|
I never wanted you so much |
|
Et puis on est la |
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Parmi les vautours |
|
Qui portent leurs guerres dans les villes |
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Qui ne cessent de verser le sang des autres |
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Mais l'homme, il faut bien l'aimer |
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Surtout dans la beaute |
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De la revolte - il faut l'aimer |
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Meme quand il t'accuse |
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Meme quand il se refuse |
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Quand il s'invente des faux amis |
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Des vrais ennemis |
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Ou comme nous - des pays caches |
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L'amour d'ou qu'il vienne |
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C'est toujours l'amour |