White Angel Đã duyệt

Traveler's tears wounded memories Hand's full of days, these were the ways You looked for home Pale paths change marking out the way Into the grace of day Traveler's tears, wounded memories One hadn full of days One hand on the cold hard ground It's as they say: It's coldest before the dawn As the cold hard ground Would signify White Angel, White Angel, give me light I have passed such a long time In the cold dark night My bruised and burning eyes Await their dream of morning Put your hand to the plow Dry your traveler's tears Lick your wounds Dress your memories In woodbettany It's as you'd own: It's coldest before the dawn And in your bones You know the way back home My bruised and burning eyes Await their dream Of morning