paroles de chanson Theme to Wendel Stivers - Spoon
When
I
do
count
the
clock
that
tells
the
time
And
see
the
brave
day
sunk
in
hideous
night,
When
I
behold
the
violet
past
prime
And
sable
curls
all
silvered
o'er
with
white
When
lofty
trees
I
see
barren
of
leaves
Which
erst
from
heat
did
canopy
the
herd
And
summer's
green
all
girded
up
in
sheaves
Borne
on
the
bier
with
white
and
bristly
beard:
Then
of
thy
beauty
do
I
question
make
That
though
among
the
wastes
of
time
must
go,
Since
sweets
and
beauties
do
themselves
forsake,
And
die
as
fast
as
they
see
others
grow,
And
nothing
'gainst
time's
scythe
can
make
defense,
Save
breed,
to
brave
him
when
he
takes
thee
hence.
Primary
(All
right
now!)
The
primary
means
of
motivation,
Walks
onto
her
place
on
thirteenth
street.
The
primary
means
of
motivation,
Paints
a
picture
on
her
lover's
face
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