Paroles de Three On a Match

Little woken warmth The only thing I loved Now a suffocated soul Its mother’s makeup runs and rinses out the pores Rings the color from her hair For what we did my love I’m sorry And who the cloth has wound was wound alone For what we've done my love I’m sorry And who the cloth has wound was wound alone Its mother crosses heart She’s damned by her own milk With unbroken water still For what we’ve did my love I’m sorry And for who the cloth was wound was wound alone For what we done my love I’m sorry And who the cloth has wound was wound alone When it’s three on a match The worst are always left I’m survived by the weight of my own sins When it’s three on a match The lord won’t let me in I’m survived by the weight of my own sins The cypress came up to my knees in may And woken warmth grew right beside my leg