Når jeg står ved min maskine på min dejlige fabrik. så er jeg glad for at leve, det' da klart er det ik'. mine hænder de er bløde som en anden funktionærs.
Christian Irish Hymn,. Attributed to Dallan Forgaill, 6 century. . Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart;. Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art..
Benedictus Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini.. Benedictus Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini.. Benedictus Benedictus qui venit, qui venit in nomine Domini..
Be still my soul, the Lord is on thy side. Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain. Leave to thy God to order and provide. In every change He faithful will remain.
Standing in the mess we made. I don't know how it got this late. I don't think I wanna know. I'm always running out the door. . I know that we deserve better.
Ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya. Ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya. . There's nothing for me here at home. Everything I'll need is with you out east.
What a brave, brave girl. Never lied before. Such a plain deceit. Everyone would eventually know. . What a brave, brave girl. Never loved before. Placed herself in reach.
"A bridge is not a high place...". . Staring out over the bridge. A million photo flashes from the water down below. Dawn light bouncing through the mist.
Best of three, the angel said. As daylight burst behind his head. Jacob all night wrestling with his angel. . Then out into the boul' St. Mich. He cruises in a new Corniche.
(fish / marillion). . A) vocal under a bloodlight. . Last night you said I was cold, untouchable. A lonely piece of action from another town. I just want to be free, I'm happy to be lonely.
The quiet sadness of the people of the North. Echoes silently around the cold grey places. Ecstasies undared. Tremble upon the edge of the tightly, respectably unfulfilled.
If you were a baby I would take you and run. I could hide you in the folds of my heart. There's a truth in the madness that I can't get beyond. And a fever that won't leave me alone.
A spider wanders aimlessly within the warmth of a shadow. Not the regal creature of border caves. But the poor, misguided, directionless familiar. Of some obscure Scottish poet.
The mascara'd blonde from the Berliner bar. Rises at twilight, gets dressed in a daze. Black leather crackles and cold water runs. As she touches the walls of memory maze.
Today! I saw music in the sky. I drove towards it in my car. And I turned left and I turned right. But I could never lose the light. That shines towards tomorrow night.
I dreamed I rolled on the ocean floor. In the sunken bones of a broken ship. On the shadow line where whispers creep. To the world above from the world beneath.
I dreamed I rolled on the ocean floor. In the sunken bones of a broken ship. On the shadow line where whispers creep. To the world above from the world beneath.
I went to Morisson's grave at Pere Lachaise cemetery. The stony flowers and the matching graffiti were guiding me. To the steps inside of me. . And what would you do if I got down on my knees to you?.
Everybody knows that we live in a world. Where they give bad names to beautiful things. Everybody knows that we live in a world. Where we don't give beautiful things a second glance.
Blue I love you. But you're so sad. It's deep above us and deep below. It's smooth on Krishna's skin. And blue doesn't really exist. . Colour happens within us.