(no subject)
Love is a garden of thorns and a crow in the corn
and the brake growing wild;
Cold when the summer is spent
In the jade heart's lament
For the faith of a child.
My body has a number and my face has a name
And each day looks the same to me
But love is a voice on the wind, and the wages of sin
And a tanglewood tree.
- Tanglewood Tree, Dave Carter
and the brake growing wild;
Cold when the summer is spent
In the jade heart's lament
For the faith of a child.
My body has a number and my face has a name
And each day looks the same to me
But love is a voice on the wind, and the wages of sin
And a tanglewood tree.
- Tanglewood Tree, Dave Carter