Pickering Pick - Cromwell | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Pickering Pick
• Cromwell

A shroud around his body wrapped
Below the Earth and years and years and years
Have passed along these lines below these fields
Brought up to us, a body wrapped

My hands that love him greatly
Though history does not agree
Were they his bones removed upon St. Steven's Day?
The moon is hidden as the cloth appears

And taken to the river
Take him to the Earth
A hundred years, two hundred years
Three for the sins of his hands

And bought unto these fields
By a sword though no man could lay him down
A fever for his troubles
And his body to the Earth returned

By the hands that loved him dearly
While his works shall never work
His thoughts shall never think
His eyes shall never watch

His loves shall know not love
His loves shall know not love
His loves shall know not love
His loves shall know not love

Pickering Pick еще тексты