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Artiste:
Sycamore Smith
Titre:
Bastogne
Assurez-vous que les corrections sont tout à fait exactes
S'il vous plaît, les mettez en évidence en quelque sorte!
Vous pouvez, par exemple, écrire
INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
CORRECT: avant la correspondant ligne correcte
Autrement, nous ne pouvons les corriger pas! Merci pour votre aide.
Eliza buys a thimble Every time she goes to town She's mounted her collection On the fingers she has found The olive jeeps are hauling heaps Of guns & drums & gew-gaws As I pick my teeth With a splinter from the true cross ----- If yer lost then you must be converted If yer at peace then you must be perverted Either way, you'll perish And be sent to Hell by carriage, Flayed until demented And then sent away again To haunt the craters And the trenches of Bastogne ----- The winter wind is whistling Around Eliza fair The lice have left her head To find a warmer patch of hair The shutters are shaking And the fire is dwindling-- It's time we used Those thimble stands for kindling ----- Eliza's in the pantry With her lamprey trapped in amber Her onanistic moaning Has a rather jarring timbre I'm beneath the covers In my Sunday best attire And I'm sucking on a Peacemaker pacifier