Abney Park — Sacrilege
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Текст Abney Park — Sacrilege
I heard in the dark, soft pairings.
Under the leaves, naked shoulders.
Under the moss, skinny sides.
Don’t wake from your sleep.
Unaware of the common man
Who would judge what they didn’t understand.
«Sacrilege!», and they keep on dancing.
«Heretic!», and they spin round and round.
«Blasphemy!», circle round the fire.
Don’t wake from your sleep.
Tossing their heads, eyes of fire.
Leaving their beds of leaves and briars.
Singing their spells to heathen gods.
Don’t wake from your sleep.
Unaware of the common man
Who would judge what they didn’t understand.
«Sacrilege!», and they keep on dancing.
«Heretic!», and they spin round and round.
«Blasphemy!», circle round the fire.
Don’t wake from your sleep.
I heard in the dark, soft pairings.
»Sacrilege!», and they keep on dancing.»
Under the leaves, naked shoulders.
»Heretic!», they spin round and round.»
Under the moss, skinny sides.
»Blasphemy!» circle round the fire.»
Don’t wake from your sleep.
I heard in the dark, soft pairings.
»Sacrilege!», and they keep on dancing.»
Under the leaves, naked shoulders.
»Heretic!», they spin round and round.»
Under the moss, skinny sides.
»Blasphemy!» circle round the fire.»
Don’t wake from your sleep.