Paroles de la chanson Pillow of Your Bones par Chris Cornell

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Paroles de la chanson Pillow of Your Bones par Chris Cornell


The embers of the saint inside of you
Are growing as I'm bathing in your glow
I'm swallowing the poison of your flower
And hanging on the rising of my low

Colorful and falling from your mouth
Like a painted fever in recoil
Like a lie without the pain
On a pillow of your bones
I will lay across the stones
Of your shore until the tide comes crawling
Throw my pillow on the fire
Make my bed under the eye
Of your moon until the tide comes crawling back

A waning hand on silver granite ways
Will mend my broken limbs and bend my haze
I'm sleeping in the silence of your voice
I'm cradling the peril of my only choice

Colorful and falling from your mouth
Like a painted fever in recoil
Like a lie without the pain
On a pillow of your bones
I will lay across the stones
Of your shore until the tide comes crawling
Throw my pillow on the fire
Make my bed under the eye
Of your moon until the tide comes crawling back

Even though the truth can burn inside or fall behind
I will wander through your open mind
And you will find no lie can hide
Until the tide comes crawling

On a pillow of your bones
I will lay across the stones
Of your shore until the tide comes crawling
Throw my pillow on the fire
Make my bed under the eye
Of your moon until the tide comes crawling
On a pillow of your bones
I will lay across the stones
Of your shore until the tide comes crawling back

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