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Description
Like some somber wind slowly stiring...
Two artists. Two languages. One common passion.
Two artists. Two languages. One common passion.
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Lyrics
First a house, then a hamlet,
First a village than a town,
There rise a strength
when we commute.
From our vessels to our veins,
From our veins to arteries,
There lies a place
Where we begin.
Sous les pouls, sous les fibres,
Dans la boue des sourires ivres,
On tisse farouche.
Dans la pluie de notre ennui,
Dans le creux des insomnies,
Mordent toutes nos bouches.
Different memories entangle,
Different thoughts entwine,
Weaving our minds with the grain.
First a village than a town,
There rise a strength
when we commute.
From our vessels to our veins,
From our veins to arteries,
There lies a place
Where we begin.
Sous les pouls, sous les fibres,
Dans la boue des sourires ivres,
On tisse farouche.
Dans la pluie de notre ennui,
Dans le creux des insomnies,
Mordent toutes nos bouches.
Different memories entangle,
Different thoughts entwine,
Weaving our minds with the grain.
cjorgensen
Way cool. I can't think of a way to make this better, so will shut my yap
and say, "Wow!" Cool.