Three Babies - Sinead O'Connor: текст песни id 407985
Each of these
My three babies
I will carry with me For myself
I ask no one else will be Mother to these three
And of course
I’m like a wild horse
But there’s no other way I could be Water and feed
Are not tools that I need
For the thing that I’ve chosen to be In my soul
My blood and my bones
I have wrapped your cold bodies around me The face on you
The smell of you
Will always be with me Each of these
My three babies
I was not willing to leave
Though I tried
I blasphemed and denied
I know they will be returned to me Each of these
My babies
Have brought you closer to me No longer mad like a horse
I’m still wild but not lost
From the thing that I’ve chosen to be And it’s `cause you’ve thrilled me Silenced me Stilled me Proved things I never believed
The face on you
The smell of you
Will always be with me Each of these
My three babies
I will carry with me For myself
I ask no one else will be Mother to these three
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