| Oh, patient spider, spin a web for me
|
| What right do I have to ruin your home?
|
| What right do they have against me?
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| Oh, distant mother, what do you ask of me?
|
| When you look at me, do I mirror your youth?
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| Or do my plans corrupt your sleep?
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| But I’m glad now the days are getting shorter
|
| And that she doesn’t bother me no more
|
| I spent nights awake until the sunrise
|
| And that doesn’t bother me anymore
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| Not at all
|
| Not at all
|
| Not at all will these days blend into one another anymore
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| Oh, quiet moonlight, dim the streets for me
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| So when I walk at night, no one notices my practices of relief
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| Oh, patient spider, we can share my window sill
|
| What right do I have to ruin your home?
|
| What right do I have to kill?
|
| Glad now the days are getting shorter
|
| And that she doesn’t bother me no more
|
| I spent nights awake until the sunrise
|
| And that doesn’t bother me anymore
|
| Not at all
|
| Not at all
|
| Not at all will these days blend into one another anymore
|
| Glad now the days are getting shorter
|
| And that she doesn’t bother me no more
|
| I spent nights awake until the sunrise
|
| And that doesn’t bother me anymore
|
| Not at all |