Blessings of babylon
Time to carry on
And try
For sins and false alarms
So to America the brave
Wise men save
Near a tree by a river
There's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of aran
Goes around and around
And his mind is a beacon
In the veil of the night
For a strange kind of fashion
There's a wrong and a right
But he'll never, never fight over you
I got plans for us
Nights in the scullery
And days instead of me
I only know what to discuss
Oh for anything but light
Wise men fighting over you
It's not me you see
Pieces of valentine
With just a song of mine
To keep from burning history
Seasons of gasoline and gold
Wise men fold
Near a tree by a river
There's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of aran
Goes around and around
And his mind is a beacon
In the veil of the night
For a strange kind of fashion
There's a wrong and a right
But he'll never, never fight over you
I got time to kill
Sly looks in corridors
Without a plan of yours
A blackbird sings on bluebird hill
Thanks to the calling of the wild
Wise mens' child
Near a tree by a river
There's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of aran
Goes around and around
And his mind is a beacon
In the veil of the night
For a strange kind of fashion
There's a wrong and a right
But he'll never, never fight over you
I got two strong arms Blessings of babylon Time to carry on And try For sins and false alarms So to America the brave Wise men save Near a tree by a river There's a hole in the ground Where an old man of aran Goes around and around And his mind is a beacon In the veil of the night For a strange kind of fashion There's a wrong and a right But he'll never, never fight over you I got plans for us Nights in the scullery And days instead of me I only know what to discuss Oh for anything but light Wise men fighting over you It's not me you see Pieces of valentine With just a song of mine To keep from burning history Seasons of gasoline and gold Wise men fold Near a tree by a river There's a hole in the ground Where an old man of aran Goes around and around And his mind is a beacon In the veil of the night For a strange kind of fashion There's a wrong and a right But he'll never, never fight over you I got time to kill Sly looks in corridors Without a plan of yours A blackbird sings on bluebird hill Thanks to the calling of the wild Wise mens' child Near a tree by a river There's a hole in the ground Where an old man of aran Goes around and around And his mind is a beacon In the veil of the night For a strange kind of fashion There's a wrong and a right But he'll never, never fight over you Explain Request ×
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