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• Artiste: Dead Soul Tribe
• Titre: Crows On The Wire
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INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
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Black angels spread their wings And they swallow the sky Carry my ghost to a hiding place From cellophane smiles And halos of barbwire Fly me far from everything From everyone and Fly me away from myself Tears of the crying Sun Like despair on the wing Swirl through the gray like a cauldron achurn For the Winter sky Cry for the crows on the wire For they fly no more Take me far from everything Everyone and Take me away from myself Far from you Take me away from myself Away from you Silent like the January mist of morn Skies adorned Dressed in shadows dancing with the failing wind But it's too late now Too late now Way too late Too late To make up for everything Way too late Too late For taking back anything Way too late Too late To cry for you Way too late Too late To cry for myself Black as the deepest night As you fly on your way Fly to my dreams As you glide on the wings of my memory Don't know where you're going But please take me anyway Take me far from everyone And bid them all farewell Take me far away from here If you could only Take me away from myself Far from you Take me away from myself Away from you