Raptured with murder. thirsty for blood. I walk between the corpses of my enemies. My shield beats back the strikes. My sword crushes the heads. blood covers my face..
In Celtic Winter wolves wear the white garments.... In Celtic Winter the weak hearts die.... In Celtic Winter hunger tears human bowles.... In Celtic Winter time slowly elapses....
With rage born of years. Of christian slavery. I destroy symbols. Of christian domination. Falsehood and emptiness I desecrate. Fight makes me a beast.
As long as you got mentally dead people. Who are living in a mental death. Meaning living in a mental grave. You need somebody to dig that grave up and bring them back to life.
(tricky). Is this recording?. Is this recording?. Is this recording?. Is this recording?. (tricky echoing and mumbling in the background throughout). .
I want a queen on every continent. So I can escape the government. Flee my residence, settle in. I'm militant minded, brilliant rhyme whiz. . The time is now for me to shine, kids are innocent.
I've built up this collection, souvenirs from years. Of missed connections, I'm giving it all away. So here's a ripped up picture and here's an unused ticket.
Use your bed like a trampoline. I said, Higher, higher. Just for love if you know what I mean. I said, Higher, higher. . I'm what you desire, sire. And I'm gonna take you.
Kick. Stomp. Walk.. Kick. Stomp. Walk, then trump.. (No time to waste!). . Now I'm up to present them face,. I have got no time to waste.. (No time to waste...).
The stuff of magick and mysteries play. As golden blood and colors do. Mix and mingle from here to you. In twilight sleep we fade away.... . Open window, never going through.
Everyday, everytime I see you. I think about all those times. every night that I have been by myself. right beside your empty side. I still see you. lying here beside me.
Tomorrow. Words & Music by Bruce Hibbard,. Gary Chapman, and Amy Grant. Lay down your failures and excuses,. All of the dreams that never come true;. The past is a crutch you've been using;.
"But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was. filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around. him and kissed him." - Luke 15:20.
Written by Amy Grant. I cannot take the heat. This girl's going home. Standing on my own two feet. Standing alone. I'm just a little weary of. All the talk and all the buzz.
That's the Day. Amy Grant. There are burdens that I carry every day,. Sometimes they want to make me cry.. Hopeless feelings harbored deep inside my heart,.
You crawl up my vine and my soul's unwound. Clouds are miles down as the song unwinds. I'm conducting nothing anything at all. No I know I know. . If I lose the floor I don't want no twist.
I was hanging with some friends. In the parking lot one night near the summer's end. I leaned back against the glass. Of a car to watch all those speeding comet's crash.
(velvet goldmine soundtrack 1998). . Darlin' you can't live your life singing songs in exile. You were born for stardom's crown and not for self denial.
Are we still on the phone. With the Lady Anna Clarke?. And her trumpet solo. Whose ghost sings for pay. . In the blue billiard room of the Monterey. For room and for board.
Where in the world have I been. I must have tripped on the way in. Diving into the shallow end. I must have gone and broke the skin. . Hold me close and let me know.