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letra de disscordents - clayhill

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light breaks through the clouds of rain
seems all we count is gain
which ain’t much

while colours in cards of truth
soar up right through the roof
of our heads

well here it comes
here we lie
in the hands of our maker
here we lie
in the palms of the high
lost for a moment
caught up in clouds
bedroom of blue
skies

blown off of our feet again
by the rush of a sail of swings
we must be loved

well here it comes
here we lie
in the hands of our maker
here wе lie
in the palms of the high
lost for a momеnt
caught up in clouds
bedroom of blue
here we lie
in the hands of our maker
here we lie
in the palms of the high
lost for a moment
caught up in clouds
bedroom of blue, blue
skies

letras aleatórias

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