To show You, to show You I adore You, oh, You
And Your journey towards me which I see and I see
All You push through, mad for You and because of You
I couldn't thank You in ten thousand years
If I cried ten thousand rivers of tears
Ah, but You know the soul and You know what makes it gold
You who give life through blood
Blood, blood, blood, blood, oh, blood, blood
Oh, I wanna make something so lovely for You
'Cause I promised that's what I'd do for You
With the Bible I stole, I know You forgave my soul
Because such was my need on a chronic Christmas Eve
And I think we're agreed that it should have been free
And You sang to me
They dress the wounds of My poor people as though they're nothing
Saying, peace, peace when there's no peace
They dress the wounds of My poor people as though they're nothing
Saying, peace when there's no peace
Days without number, days without number
Now can a bride forget her jewels or a maid her ornaments?
Yet my people forgotten Me
Days without number, days without number
And in their want, oh, in their want and in their want
Who'll dress their wounds? Who'll dress their wounds?
I wanna make something beautiful for You and from You To show You, to show You I adore You, oh, You And Your journey towards me which I see and I see All You push through, mad for You and because of You I couldn't thank You in ten thousand years If I cried ten thousand rivers of tears Ah, but You know the soul and You know what makes it gold You who give life through blood Blood, blood, blood, blood, oh, blood, blood Oh, I wanna make something so lovely for You 'Cause I promised that's what I'd do for You With the Bible I stole, I know You forgave my soul Because such was my need on a chronic Christmas Eve And I think we're agreed that it should have been free And You sang to me They dress the wounds of My poor people as though they're nothing Saying, peace, peace when there's no peace They dress the wounds of My poor people as though they're nothing Saying, peace when there's no peace Days without number, days without number Now can a bride forget her jewels or a maid her ornaments? Yet my people forgotten Me Days without number, days without number And in their want, oh, in their want and in their want Who'll dress their wounds? Who'll dress their wounds? Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/s/sinead_oconnor/something_beautiful_dublin_sessions.html
