dimecres, 13 de novembre del 2013

"CRIPPLE CROW"
DEVENDRA BANHART, ALTRE COP




When they come from the over the mountain
Yeah we’ll run we’ll run right around them
We’ve got no guns no we don’t have any weapons
Just our cornmeal and our children

The dust drowns
The dark clouds
But not us
But not us

While we pay for mistakes with no meaning
All your gifts and all your peace is deceiving
And still our pain dissolves with believing

That peace comes, their peace comes
That peace comes, their peace comes

Now that our bones lay buried below us
Just like stones pressed into the earth
Well we ain’t known by no one before us
And we begin with this one little birth

That grows on, that grows on
That grows on, that moves on

Cripple crow say something for our grieving
Where do we go once we start leaving
Well close that womb
Or else keep on bleeding
And change your tune
It’s got no meaning

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