paroles de chanson Next Year - Marika Hackman

Oh, Father Time, grow me, change me
Age and shed the infant skin that was mine
Did you hear the wind howling, growling?
She knows something, she is older than I am
Progress is slow on this heart that I grow
I′ll never learn next year
Beat to the drum, constant ocean vessels
Pulsing every second we die
Hands to the sun, burning, breathing
Glowing, healing sustenance of the sky
[?] and coal are better for the soul
But I believe in blood and lust
Oh, Father Time, rock me gently
I'm not ready, can′t we stay for a while?
And listen in to the wind, melody of
Melancholy, she's a lullaby
Oh send me to sleep, and my mother, she will weep
And here's to the womb, and the human catacomb
I am not a child quite yet
And I am not a child quite yet