Marc Bolan - Evenings Of Damask

 (versiyon 1)
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The evenings of Damask are falling 

The youth of truth chest 

Feeds a starling 

With his heart. 



A chosen man begged by the wayside 

A horse came soon and died before him 

And said eat. 



The icy claws of earth are crawling 

Upon my baby's brow and calling 

Please come home. 



The boy unlike the man was smiling 

For gulleys, streams and hills would hide him 

Like a swan. 



A vagabond, a weaver warrior 

Produced a loom, a cheese and chopper 

And said choose. 



My sandled feet are fleet like water 

I kiss the limbs is Earthess daughter 

A little tree.















		
			



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