I spoke so well that evening I sang so well of light Wish I may wish I might Have this wish I wish tonight
The more we sang of wonders The more we drank our wine Suddenly a ghost appeared The clock sang number nine
We spoke from end of table His majesty, the chief - You shall take what you deserve From comfort and relief
This words combined with manhood - In alcohole entwined - Made all the saying into jokes And good eyes into blind
I tried to taste their warfare - My lips could barely move When I did as much as I could do To fit into their groove
But as it proved impossible To satisfy their needs I solved my little problem And accomplished all my deeds
For I spoke so well that evening I sang so well that night Wish I would Wish I could be swallowed By your lightTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.