| Can I face tomorrow
|
| With the, with the news you bring me
|
| My soul feels cold like ice
|
| A pinprick makes no pain
|
| Oh, hear me, listen, help me
|
| I felt our thing change
|
| From love to something else
|
| Well, how can it plague my mind
|
| A pinprick makes no pain
|
| Oh, hear me, listen, help me
|
| I shall find myself
|
| But I must have the time
|
| To sow the seeds of something new
|
| Farmer, farmer plough the field
|
| Harvest, harvest all you can
|
| A corn field smells so sweet
|
| A pinprick makes no pain
|
| Hear me, listen, help me
|
| But to follow the weaver of dreams
|
| Behind the sun that knows, it seems that
|
| I’m foresworn--a naked troubadour
|
| I sit at court and I sing
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| To the Princess of Beauty and Light
|
| She favours me though I’m merely
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| A minstrel of the night
|
| There on my right
|
| Sits the King with his clowns
|
| He pays to laugh
|
| While his queen lives on downs
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| And the smile on his brow is the crown
|
| Morning bird sing, fill my ears
|
| With the joy of our sorrow unmasked
|
| Lend me your wings for the sunrays of dawn
|
| Are here to last
|
| I take my leave, as I leave I must take
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| All I have seen in my dreams--then I wake
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| And it is as safe as yesterday is |