Break some bread The nights been blessed With an never ending nest But nonetheless End come too soon
Sweet concubine The nights divine In an never-ending line Of lovers end come to soon
But all the cost Both of us Without any maybes But it must carry us To the end too soon
Ink begins to blot My eyes are bloodshot Dancing things they wish they had not But we both stop The end come to soon
Whose butter-fingers rip me like bread? Whose dirty mouth have would have me merry head? Whose wholesome heart bobbed down on me? We wash your streamers into such herrings
You skin looked waxen In the fading light Moved down me, dancing Like a sailing kite
Ooh Yeah-o, Yeah-o, Yeah-o, Yeah-o...
End come soon end come too soon End come too soon end come too soon
End come too soon It comes too soon It comes too soon It comes too soon Too soon Too soon Too soon
It's too soon...
The end it comes too soon, too soon, too soon, too soon The end it came too soon
Compositores: Ben Little, Christopher Robert Talbot, Hayden Norman Thorpe, Thomas William Fleming ECAD: Obra #5585151