Days of Lantana - Ben Howard

Ha, je sens mon coeur qui froidit

Mon ami

Agatha and I go

Down to the courtyard slinging

Last year's Sundays in the river of time

Agatha and I go

Down to the citadel Sunday

Red church bells and the moon on the rise

If you were to tell her

The days are numbered

I'd break the teeth in your fake ass smile

Maybe in a rare wind

Maybe in a month of Sundays

Maybe in a war I would still read the wrong signs

But I don't mind it

Being in the darkness baby

To be by your side

I would walk the Nile twice

Days of lantana

Each saint with a cross and a hammer

Radiation of the Cherenkov kind

So we go walking

Birds at the window talking

Jubilations in the faint June shine

Agatha and I go

Down to the citadel winning

Things that graciously came to mind

Gathering the day in

Some make arrangements

Some know the way and they just walk a straight line

Well, Curly's a baker's boy

Living for the harvest nights

Turns to me and says something like

"The world only turns twice

Once for the laughter

Once for the memories after

All the rest is just kicking through the weather and the fines"

So we go dancing

Twist turns and all things fancy

"I blame the baker boy", that's what I had on my mind

You in the here now

Me in the far bar

I'd wait forever if they gave me enough time

Outside walking

Birds at the window talking

Iterations of the faint June shine

Trois beaux oiseaux du Paradis

Mon ami z-il est à la guerre

Trois beaux oiseaux du Paradis

Trois beaux oiseaux du Paradis

Mon ami z-il est à la guerre

Trois beaux oiseaux du Paradis

Ha, je sens mon coeur qui froidit

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Trois beaux oiseaux du Paradis

Mon ami z-il est à la guerre

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