Beirut - Cliquot lyrics
[Beirut - Cliquot lyrics]
A plague on the poor now
I'll beat on my drum 'til I'm dead
Yesterday, fever, tomorrow, St peter
I'll beat on my drum until then
Oh, what melody will lead my
Lover from his bed?
What melody will see him in my arms again?
Set fire to foundation and
Burn out the station
You'll never get nothing of mine
The pane of my window will flicker and billow
I won't leave a stitching behind
Oh, what melody will lead my
Lover from his bed?
What melody will see him in my arms again?
I'll sing of the walls of the well and
The house at the top of the hill
I'll sing of the bottles of wine that
We left on our old window sill
I'll sing of the years you will
Spend getting sadder and older
Oh love, and the cold, the oncoming cold