we met on seven hills of vocabulary
fed by wolfmother's milk found in translation
was the name of the game i'd drink the wine from your hand
i'd wash the gold from your hair it'd be red
i love you
i'm so glad i got lost in your rooms in your novel
it has been never been easier to find your tower in forest
what's the language i sing what's the language i love in
what's the language my thoughts use dead let it be dead
wherever the hell i have been considering here and foreign
what do i see in the morning red let it be red
you were the grapes and the spices of the ancient rome
what's the latin word for sin it must be beautiful
you were the bread and the games circus i am coming
swing low sweet chariot
i love you
i'm so glad i got lost in your booze in your bottles
it'll be always a pleasure to use you as the rigging of my balloon
what's the language i sing what's the language i love in
what's the language my thoughts use dead let it be dead
wherever the hell i have been considering here and foreign
what do i see in the morning red let it be red
