| | B.m.s.
- John Has A Good Heart, But ... | | | I lay my desire for the moon
Over your shoulders
And I will be the one to give
Honey for your lips
But do not let the wind
Lay waste your brow
Maybe you can find your rest
Over my fields of roses
And I will gather all your fears
And take them far away
And I will be the amphora
In which you my place
Your saddest tears
But more, I | | |
