The line of her headband into the night of her ears
The fountain of hair between those lips
Drink it before it's not pure anymore
Drink it before it's not pure anymore
Drink it before it's not pure anymore
The gypsy won't have anything with him
She said the line in her hand is too new
And he'll come from across the water
Well, his victory comes slow
Victory comes slow
Victory comes slow
Victory comes slow
Come slow
But true
Victory comes slow
Blinded by
Death in Seville
Down and out of the air
In the Lucia
The moon's coming in for the kill
Blinded by
Death in Seville
Down and out of the sweet barcelona
The moon's coming in for the kill
orns
Down and out
The sunrise attackin' her phalon
She writes her word in the sand
Down and out of the seem reasoning
Down and out of the seem reasoning
So fast, so good
Poetry came through this tunnel
Poetry came through
Poetry came through this tunnel
Poetry came through
We'll find another
Deafened soul
Down at the end of the sea
The moon's coming for the kill
We'll find another
Deafened soul
Down at the end of the sea
The moon's coming for the kill
The moon's coming for the kill