Из альбома: I'll Be a Virgin, I'll Be a Mountain

A Magic bullet against your drought
Were sumptuous rainfalls
Dreary whispering of how you love

Sun-baked objects

It?s a little strange how you walk
And I still hear your withered talk

I am blooming
I am blooming
Without you

You?ve lost your tears in a vale of dust
You?re a wilted flower
How could I now miss your face
As I?m watered in a shower?

It?s a little strange how you walk
And I still hear your withered talking

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