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• Artiste: Morgan and the Hidden Hands
• Titre: King
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INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
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Look no more, Only the weak use their eyes But I, I will teach you right Come with me, come inside; Spread your sails, shed your pride And don't mind those salty sips That drag you down— You'll just be gone and I'll Sing on and on And on and on and on... to capture the next one: Long live the king, the king is dead; Your prayers won't call him back to your bed With all this blood I've laced upon the moon No spells or tricks will bring him home: Long live the king; The king is mine, the king is dead! An addict to my tones, You will drink me 'til you say when, And then you'll have to drink some more: You'll love me like the devil loves To drink his water laced with wine, But you won't, like him, be called an angel When you fall: You'll just be gone and I'll Sing on and on And on and on and on... to capture the next one: Long live the king, the king is dead; Your prayers won't call him back to your bed With all this blood I've laced upon the moon No spells or tricks will bring him home: Long live the king; The king is mine, the king is dead! One day I'll be conquered by a wily voice and eyes And my tomb will be the stage where Great cities rise; And the queen will be dead, long live the queen; And the queen will be dead, long live the queen; Long live the king, the king is dead; Your prayers won't call him back to your bed With all this blood I've laced upon the moon No spells or tricks will bring him home: Long live the king; The king is mine, the king is dead!