Our hands try to draw what is nothing but divine But our stroke is a part of the Venetian line What was taken for style could well be a mistake Or nothing but a flaw of the guilty hand
I'm nothing but a dead man now, just a body laying at the bottom of a well Was inside in such a way, the universe now feels like being indoors
Our hands try to draw what is nothing but divine But our stroke is a part of the Venetian line What was taken for style could well be a mistake Or nothing but a flaw of the guilty hand
I'm nothing but a dead man now, just a body laying at the bottom of a well
Believe me please, believe me now, I'm coming forth But the fist of a murderer leaves nothing to chance
I was inside in such a way, the universe now feels like being indoors
But the fist of my murderer leaves me nothing to chance 2x
I'm nothing but a dead man now, just a body laying at the bottom of a well
Believe me please, believe me now, I'm coming forth But the fist of a murderer leaves nothing to chance 2x
Our hands try to draw what is nothing but divine But our stroke is a part of the Venetian line What was taken for style could well be a mistake Or nothing but a flaw of the guilty hand
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John Coffey - The Well (0)
John Coffey - The Well (Acoustic) (0)
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