Through the soil and the winner's grip,
As all the world listens in.
Though you're small and illiterate,
You know best that this it.
After 6 seas of travelling,
You're ready to settle in.
Though the water was safe to sit,
Only fools dove in.
Atlas at last you're a God;
Atlas at last you aren't lost;
Atlas at last you're in love;
Atlas at last it's past and you're alone.
Though the war has left its bruises,
The healing's yet to move in.
No more as you are wearing thin,
The solitude is beckoning.
Atlas at last you're a God;
Atlas at last you aren't lost;
Atlas at last you're in love;
Atlas at last it's past and you're alone.
Through the soil and the winner's grip,
As all the world listens in.
Though you're small and illiterate,
You pray to god that this is not it
Epilogues еще тексты
Оценка текста
Статистика страницы на pesni.guru ▼
Просмотров сегодня: 2