Pretty Polly

Pretty Polly, please come on down
From your home home high up off the ground
In the tree dark and forlorn
Where the rope hangs bruised and worn

Though I'll never fly to you
It's the last thing I would do
You have dug two holes so deep
I'm afraid that one's for me

Pretty Polly must I cry
Without your voice I'll fear I'd die
The song you sing and the story you tell
We must keep them to ourselves

Oh I know my voice like nightingale
Now I have my brand new tale
Of a tree dark and forlorn
Where a rope hang bruised and worn

Petty Polly, I have bread
That I have not eaten yet
Come and take them from my thalls
Then we'll lay your song to rest

I suppose my song can wait
For I am hungry and grows late
I will eat your bread and then
I will sing my song a-gain

Pretty Polly, I had no choice
Stop your heart and steal your voice
One more little body so still
One more little hole to fill

Похожие новости.

In Dreams

A candy coloured clown they call the sandman, Tiptoes to my room every night, Just to sprinkle star dust and to whisper, "Go to sleep everything is alright;" I close my eyes and I

Prisoner

Thanking you for openining my eyes so clear Sweeping old illusions from my soul But most of all for turning something simple and sincere Into somethin' jaded and as jive as rock and

Some Things Never Change

The hero says his final goodbyes, and there are tears in my lover's eyes, But it was just a film, make-believe, they all get up and go home, And now you're asking

Я Плачу

Дім, як завжди, без жодних змін Тільки тебе немає, Я ще не вірю в це, Раптом спинилось все. Я вже не твоя, бо без тебе я... Ти мабуть знав й день цей настав, Раптом життя спинилось, Ти

Нахреноза

Хаотичность бытия – это самый грустный фактор Центром мог бы быть и я, но я лишь грош в копилке фактов На руках повисла цепь и в дырке каждого звена Четко выписан рецепт задать