Pur si simplu mi-era ingrozitor de dor de Jeff Buckley si de piesa asta. Mi se mai intampla cateodata, cand ceva imi declanseaza/reactiveaza spiritul fatalist/nihilist. Trecuse ceva vreme...
There's the moon asking to stay
Long enough for the clouds to fly me away
Though it's my time coming, I'm not afraid, afraid to die
My fading voice sings of love,
But she cries to the clicking of time,
Of time
Wait in the fire...
And she weeps on my arm
Walking to the bright lights in sorrow
Oh drink a bit of wine we both might go tomorrow, oh my love
And the rain is falling and I believe
My time has come
It reminds me of the pain I might leave
Leave behind
Wait in the fire...
And I feel them drown my name
So easy to know and forget with this kiss
But I'm not afraid to go but it goes so slow
Wait in the fire...
Daca ar fi stiut el, atunci cand a scris Grace, ce il asteapta. There's no greater Grace than this...
2 comentarii:
Faine, faine piese. Nasc nostalgii...
Da, asa e, ingrozitor de mari nostalgii
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