Amelia Curran
Amelia Curran
Amelia Curran
Amelia Curran
Amelia Curran
Amelia Curran
Amelia Curran
Amelia Curran
Amelia Curran
Amelia Curran
Amelia Curran
We walk in a great line draped in a tone
We turn on our own time all whispers and moans
And capture like photographs quickening years
Two stepping alone as the day we appeared
Every woman and every man
Come to the table and bring what they can
And taken for granted they don't understand
Every other woman every other man
Every other woman every other man
Every other woman every other man
And stumbling down from the lessons of age
The conquest of love and the still ache of rage
A deafening chorus of battled and bold
Of mercy of madness and constance and cold
Every woman and every man
Come to the table and bring what they can
And taken for granted they don't understand
Every other woman every other man
Every other woman every other man
Every other woman every other man