Keren Ann - Bring Back paroles de (lyrics)
[Keren Ann - Bring Back paroles de lyrics]
Bring back my eldest
Before my heart is withered
He's a fighter and a winner
A falling legend in the mirror
He will spoil the hungry beast
Till the flag is raised and
The fire is ceased
He'll sway and sway until he's creased
And saved before the senior priest
Like a rebel
Bring back my second for he is left handed
He don't know the rule of thumb
The artillery, the rolling drum
Crafted for the right hand wrist
Of the worthy knights with
Their clenching fist
Not for my boy whose callow lips
Have never yet been truly kissed by a lover
Bring back my third before his skin is burnt
He lives inside an ancient soul
Deep in the mist of rock and roll
Oh love will be his deadly sin
When the ships arrive and it's time to spin
The heavy swords from the eastern winds
In the holy name of the king of kings
Like a promise
Bring back my youngest
Before his eyes have seen
Before his youth will go to waste
Don't give him any truth to taste
I want him riding back to me
On the sandy shores of the southern sea
Green and unspoiled as a child can be
With open arms calling liberty
Like his father
Before my heart is withered
He's a fighter and a winner
A falling legend in the mirror
He will spoil the hungry beast
Till the flag is raised and
The fire is ceased
He'll sway and sway until he's creased
And saved before the senior priest
Like a rebel
Bring back my second for he is left handed
He don't know the rule of thumb
The artillery, the rolling drum
Crafted for the right hand wrist
Of the worthy knights with
Their clenching fist
Not for my boy whose callow lips
Have never yet been truly kissed by a lover
Bring back my third before his skin is burnt
He lives inside an ancient soul
Deep in the mist of rock and roll
Oh love will be his deadly sin
When the ships arrive and it's time to spin
The heavy swords from the eastern winds
In the holy name of the king of kings
Like a promise
Bring back my youngest
Before his eyes have seen
Before his youth will go to waste
Don't give him any truth to taste
I want him riding back to me
On the sandy shores of the southern sea
Green and unspoiled as a child can be
With open arms calling liberty
Like his father