| Sometimes it feels like heaven and sometimes it feels like hell
|
| But you keep on going until it gets hard to tell
|
| And your body moves with the grace of an archangel
|
| Like a stroke of genius from Raphael
|
| You lie down
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| On the backseat under covers
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| And every part of you is aching but your face is radiant
|
| Because you went right through the pain
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| You wrestled with an angel
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| You waited in the rain
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| St. George and the dragon
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| On a pressed and painted plain
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| The sweat upon your forehead
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| It did not fall not vain
|
| It didn’t fall in vain
|
| Sometimes it feels like heaven and sometimes it feels like hell
|
| But you keep on going until it gets hard to tell
|
| And your body moves with the grace of an archangel
|
| Like a stroke of genius from Raphael
|
| The crowd was still
|
| Like a fresco in a chapel
|
| 9−7 in the fifth, O St. Sebastian must have been beside you all the way
|
| The greatest match in history
|
| You put them all to shame
|
| 4 hours and a Rolex
|
| Could not put you away
|
| You did it for yourself
|
| And now the people sing your name
|
| The people sing your name
|
| Sometimes it feels like heaven and sometimes it feels like hell
|
| But you keep on going until it gets hard to tell
|
| And your body moves with the grace of an archangel
|
| Like a stroke of genius from Raphael |