Paroles

Where does the wind ever slumber? Where does the river not flow? There, the reeds they will rustle like chains The bullrush refuses to grow The nightingale 's song drones endlessly on The fishes are bathed in the sun But they are powerless moths in the flame A flame drawn up from the sand He waits by the riverside And he waits by the road He'll play you his drum And the fiddle he'll bow So caution yourself Be aware of his tongue Cause all that is loved Can crumble to none He waits by the riverside And he waits by the road He'll play you his drum And the fiddle he'll bow So caution yourself Be aware of his tongue Cause all that is loved Can crumble to none
Writer(s): Nicholas Anton Dominic Foster, Oliver William Julian Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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