Şarkı sözleri : Mumford & Sons. Sigh No More. Thistle & Weeds.
Spare me your judgments and spare me your dreams
'Cause recently mine have been tearing my seams
I sit alone in this winter clarity which clouds my mind
Alone in the wind and the rain you left me
It's getting dark darling, too dark to see
And I'm on my knees and your faith in shreds, it seems
Corrupted by the simple sniff of riches blown
I know you have felt much more love than you've shown
And I'm on my knees and the water creeps to my chest
But plant your hope with good seeds
Don't cover yourself with thistle and weeds
Rain down, rain down on me
Look over your hills and be still
The sky above us shoots to kill
Rain down, rain down on me
But I will hold on, I will hold on hope
Oh, I will hold on, I will hold on hope
Oh, I will hold on, I will hold on hope
I will hold on, I will hold on hope
I will hold on, I will hold on
I begged you to hear me, there's more than flesh and bones
Let the dead bury the dead, they will come out in droves
But take the spade from my hands and fill in the holes you've made
But plant your hope with good seeds
Don't cover yourself with thistle and weeds
Rain down, rain down on me
'Cause recently mine have been tearing my seams
I sit alone in this winter clarity which clouds my mind
Alone in the wind and the rain you left me
It's getting dark darling, too dark to see
And I'm on my knees and your faith in shreds, it seems
Corrupted by the simple sniff of riches blown
I know you have felt much more love than you've shown
And I'm on my knees and the water creeps to my chest
But plant your hope with good seeds
Don't cover yourself with thistle and weeds
Rain down, rain down on me
Look over your hills and be still
The sky above us shoots to kill
Rain down, rain down on me
But I will hold on, I will hold on hope
Oh, I will hold on, I will hold on hope
Oh, I will hold on, I will hold on hope
I will hold on, I will hold on hope
I will hold on, I will hold on
I begged you to hear me, there's more than flesh and bones
Let the dead bury the dead, they will come out in droves
But take the spade from my hands and fill in the holes you've made
But plant your hope with good seeds
Don't cover yourself with thistle and weeds
Rain down, rain down on me
Sigh No More
Mumford & Sons