I can bight my tongue
And all the little people
Fifteen hundred miles away:
Her violent man
A heart breaks easier alone
And she feeds you tea and oranges
"For human life is chancy at any kind of trade,
That has transfigured me
try to sweep the love the care away,
I heard the sighs of men, that have no skill
I can bight my tongue
And all the little people
Fifteen hundred miles away:
Her violent man
A heart breaks easier alone
And she feeds you tea and oranges
"For human life is chancy at any kind of trade,
That has transfigured me
try to sweep the love the care away,
I heard the sighs of men, that have no skill