Anita Lane
Anita Lane
Anita Lane
Anita Lane
Anita Lane
Anita Lane
Anita Lane
Anita Lane
Anita Lane
Anita Lane
Anita Lane
Anita Lane
Anita Lane
Anita Lane
The whispers cut like hard rain
Like sugar in a hurricane
Like tears from a gun
All blood and sun
Well the holes from your pretty swords
I fill them up with hush
Hush words
And I hum
The whispers cut like hard rain
Like sugar in a hurricane
Like tears from a gun
All blood and sun
He said
"Bow unto me"
But no-one could hear him
So great was the grinding and gnashing of wings
Shut your wings little flower
Shut your wings
The whispers, the whispers cut like hard rain
Like sugar in a hurricane
Like tears from a gun
All blood and sun
The holes from your pretty swords
I fill them up with hush
Hush words
And I hum