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• Artiste: Bob Franke
• Titre: Upper Room
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Autrement, nous ne pouvons les corriger pas! Merci pour votre aide.
I hate to be the bearer of one more cross, Planted in the Calvary of your heart. On your face, I see the shadow of one shared loss, Hanging there until the healing starts. Take it down, wash the body, Wrap it in the clothing of the tomb. When a marriage fails, it's time to gather up the nails, Find a few friends, and move to an upper room. Find a few friends, and move to an upper room. You swung the hammer, and I pierced the side. At cockcrow, we both cried, "It wasn't me!" You washed your hands, I betrayed you with a kiss, But both of us were hanging from that tree. Take it down, wash the body, Wrap it in the clothing of the tomb. When a marriage fails, it's time to gather up the nails, Find a few friends, and move to an upper room. Find a few friends, and move to an upper room. Lay it in its resting place and pray. Turn and face the night, and walk away. Remember the kindness, remember the love, And the child who is the world to me and you. But before we can hope for a flame, a wind, a dove, There are still a few small tasks that we must do: Take it down, wash the body, Wrap it in the clothing of the tomb. When a marriage fails, it's time to gather up the nails, Find a few friends, and move to an upper room. Find a few friends, and move to an upper room.