if it's all the same to me, shouldn't I let pass by the difference between the leaves and me? A tree is a tree is a tree and if it's all the same to
this is an instrumental, i.e. there are no lyrics
By three a.m. all the morning birds will be crying And that old highway will be sighing And my dreams feel as cold as my bones on the long walk home
These words feel empty And I don't deserve this These birds will kill us all They want your breath They want your love They want your skin No one can
Перевод: Jolie Holland. Все птицы Утро.
there don?t get carried away in the past its not fair just another walk on the pavement leaves no tracks and no trails I saw in other hands and my own all
(Written by Earl Lett (Beantown Music BMI), additional lyrics by Carl Broemel) there?s a lot of different kind of people in the world there?s the good
Heaven knows you got me started heaven knows you got me going I knew we found the right sounds when you pulled me out from the ground heaven knows you
s on the way whether or not they know it feel the warm in an embrace there is space in the garden where the song is always one and the birds sing what
more doesn?t make you deep let?s not wait around for death to show us how well we have lived this life leftover is all we get, yes this life leftover is all
I was waiting for the moment to be perfectly clear when the world would stop and let me catch up in the place of every moment that has left you in need
It takes a lot of work to not be burnt save a minute for your man it takes a lot of time to know your mind save an hour for yourself you ask a lot of
I saw an old man hold out his hand and I didn?t care at all but spot a stray dog that?s probably lost and I?ll stop the car I know that something?s
you find you?re alone but you don?t really feel like you are the drives may be long but your radio works your back seat is filled up with all of your
Sunday drivers stole my keys friendly fire tore my jeans oh what in the world is happening to me? I know you fall when you?re trying to walk and I know
By three a.m. all the morning birds will be crying And that old highway will be sighing And my dreams feel as cold as my bones on the long walk home.
: These words feel empty And I don't deserve this These birds will kill us all They want your breath They want your love They want your skin No one
The ballroom was filled with fashion's throng, It shone with a thousand lights; And there was a woman who passed along, The fairest of all the sights.
