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letra de harvest on a sunday - myths of a thistle

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(verse)
i was in portugal every day of your trip
i was the cigarettes burning away on your lips
i was the ferry blowing its h-rns in the mist
i was the childish/ageing bullfighter blowing that kiss

(verse)
i was the equity needed for you loan of bliss
i was the salt in the sea that you couldn’t resist
i was the congressman who stopped the pass of the bill
i was the mosquito causing you to be ill

(chorus)
now here i am to harvest you on a sunday
in a song

(verse)
send me a letter now send me a letter my love
you might have guessed it i am the carrier dove
swing by the ocean
swing with me, swing with me…

(chorus)
now here i am to harvest you on a sunday
in a song

- myths of a thistle

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