Little Fly
Little fly
Thy summer's play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away
Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?
Little fly...
For I dance
And drink and sing
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing
I thought is life
And strength and breath
And the want
Of thought is death
Little fly...
Then am I
A happy fly
If I live
Or if I die
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Are we a fantasy Swimming in theocracy We are far from holy The wholeness of one Repeat after me We lost the key of sight Now blind, we fear in flight We are far from love But silence
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It's good of you to ask me sir How I spend my days Water glass and ladders sir Working for my pay Back home I saw a future sir Learnt my father's trade But here
Bonus Track
I want to be real Not some conscience to myself The way you worship, never ending Some idol who’s pretending to be true How you put upon yourself A man who never seems To answer to
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I'm going down to the river gonna take me my rocking chair Going down to the river gonna take me my rocking chair And if those blues don't leave me Gonna rock on
Посылка Под Паролем
У меня нет ни мерса, ни бумера, ни кайена Похер на карьеру откровенно, буду жить в деревне Мой папа Валера другого сына наверно хотел бы Но не тот из головастика показался первым И вот
