John Coffey
The Well
Our hands try to draw what is nothing but divineBut our stroke is a part of the Venetian lineWhat was taken for style could well be a mistakeOr nothing but a flaw of the guilty handI'm nothing but a dead man now,just a body laying at the bottom of a wellWas inside in such a way,the universe now feels like being indoorsOur hands try to draw what is nothing but divineBut our stroke is a part of the Venetian lineWhat was taken for style could well be a mistakeOr nothing but a flaw of the guilty handI'm nothing but a dead man now,just a body laying at the bottom of a wellBelieve me please, believe me now, I'm coming forthBut the fist of a murderer leaves nothing to chanceI was inside in such a way,the universe now feels like being indoorsBut the fist of my murderer leaves me nothing to chance2xLetras de cancionesI'm nothing but a dead man now,just a body laying at the bottom of a wellBelieve me please, believe me now, I'm coming forthBut the fist of a murderer leaves nothing to chance2xOur hands try to draw what is nothing but divineBut our stroke is a part of the Venetian lineWhat was taken for style could well be a mistakeOr nothing but a flaw of the guilty hand
From Letras Mania