Lyrics:
Sweet little girls
Cut a swathe through this world
Using skills that they get
From their mothers
Sweet little girls
Might like ribbons
Sweet little girls
Cut a swathe through this world
Using skills that they get
From their mothers
Sweet little girls
Might like ribbons and curls
But
I start to choke, stench of sickness, shivering cold
Try to scream, no noise
Try to speak, no voice
Sweat swathes my body
Gonna drown
The waves
This sound has no waves
This sound has no waves
It moves cuts swathes
Through fog and other grey things
This sound has no waves
This sound has no
swathe of Zurra's sword!
Kill, kill, kill! 'Fore the matchless might
of Zurra's wrath! Die!
[THE HIGH PRIEST OF MU:]
The storm comes.
So comes a tune to the colour of you
Does it seem too soon to feel the way that we do
You stay with me under a swathe of stars
You sway with me in
set up
I got a new-old smile with my eyes that fresh up
Bathing gown swathe around like a hug
Turning on my playlist no one would interrupt
I'll be
Swathe me in the moonlight floating in the sky
Feeling all the freedom what a so good night
Nothing here to worry nothing here to weep
Tell me one
of a carpet-bagger
With your sweet cologne and your mobile phone
And the moves of a desperado
You will cut a swathe on your gangster's lathe
And an overdose
of a carpet-bagger
With your sweet cologne and your mobile phone
And the moves of a desperado
You will cut a swathe on your gangster's lathe
And an overdose
Hold tight angel
Morning will soon be here
Washing your pillow
In swathes of gold and red
Our time is waiting
In the wings of uncertainty
Our
Hold tight angel
Morning will soon be here
Washing your pillow
In swathes of gold and red
Our time is waiting
In the wings of uncertainty
Our
War-torn, forlorn and malarial
She was found
Born in a burial gown
Unloosed, the chain of Her god-given cross
Seduced, now pagan ribbons swathe Her repose
the bridge
The men like falling leaves
Or ears of corn that fall in swathes
The vicious sickle cleaves
The tide receded up the hill
The waste of reclaimed
The weight of the stone like the weight of a sun
Its form divided one by one
Take up stays with shaking hands
Tear eyes away, fading swathes of land
there's ghosts around
alive with half-done business in this town
you feel their sound
their presence swathes the city like a gown
there's ghosts
resurrect your stereo
And the swathes of melodies will flow
Thelonious, Maurizio
I tell you babe it will make your heart glow
I'll make you mixtape
Within these darkest walls.
As I write these lines.
In this domain of decay.
Words fall on the soil beneath.
Enfold, embrace, besiege, swathe
Forlornucopial the wealth of misery
And favoured haunts of sorrow hold no lure
Deep swathes of gloom
that once cocooned me in dark livery
Now
Seduced, now pagan ribbons swathe Her repose
In a carnival of souls sold and similarly lost
Too many decades misfit and mislaid
In innocence,
say this little boy is mad
This little boy comes to destroy, stone eyed, hard faced, in swathes of vengeance clad
And the black cock crows
Wicked britches of the West
He cut a mourning figure in glorious swathe
But all his nightmares would come true
Drowning in a stream of unbounded
his sword is unleashed
Nothing dare face him, neither man or beast
Cut a bloody swathe across this battlefield
Red mist rising, break your human
In the middle eastern mountains we watch
As crusaders take to the sands like snakes
Control of the holy land is sought
And bloody swathes are left
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