The wind picks up And the birds surround us You cover up, you settle down Drink from the well, drink from the fountain It feels like a Sunday the morning
Translation: Sense Field. Sage.
With my senses of old and the heart of a giant And I'm searching through the wreckage for some great recollection that I might have been queen For every sage
With my senses of old and the heart of a giant And I'm searching through the wreckage For some recollection that I might have been queen For every sage
else is why I have deigned to grace this final battle with my Imperial presence, even against the advice of the Grand Vizier and the sage counsel of the
With my senses of old And the heart of a giant And I'm searching through the wreckage For some great recollection That I might have been queen For every sage
