Turn Loose The Swans (live) - Live

Turn Loose The Swans

So little of what we observe is the girl herself
Elaborate, scented coiffers
Adieu d'amour
Vast is the heir's ballroom
Let the rich give you presents
Heaven pours from her throat, as she sings and as she dances

The fumes of rich swine, honey-glazed and dripping, playing in the air
My mouth eager and wishing
But I return to this nightingale
Her hair all fiery red
Deep it is and wild
My weakness will be fed

Boys whipped on the alter of Diana
Sometimes until they died
The cunning wily merchant, and his four crippled horses

Tales told in warlike manner
The storyteller by the fire
While musing deeply on this sight, the songster stirred my desire

You are sweet and fine to listen to
Long tresses about her neck
Yet much is false
This mighty evening, I've seen no face
This is crushing me
My quill it aches

Turn loose the swans that drew my poet's craft
I'll dwell in desolate cities
You burned my wings
I leave this ode, splendid victorious through the carnage
I wanted to touch them all
I wanted to touch them all

Thank you very much



Credits
Writer(s): Aaron Stainthorpe, Andrew David Craighan, Martin Powell, Adrian Richard Winfield Jackson, Richard Dominic Miah, Calvin Webster Robertshaw
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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