Black flies on the windowsill
That we are, that we are, that we are to know
Winter stole summers thrill
And the riverβs cracked and cold
See, the sky is no manβs land
A darkened plume to stay
Hope here needs a humble hand
Not a fox found in your place
No man is an island
Oh, this I know
But canβt you see, oh?
Or maybe you were the ocean
When I was just a stone
Black flies on the windowsill
That we are, that we are, that we are to hold
Comfort came against my will
And every story must grow old
And every story must grow old
Still Iβll be a traveller
A gypsyβs reins to face
But the road is wearier
With that fool found in your place
No man is an island
Oh, this I know
But canβt you see, oh?
Or maybe you were the ocean
When I was just a stone
No man is an island
Oh, this I know
But canβt you see, oh?
Or maybe you were the ocean
When I was just a stone
So here we are
Ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh
And I donβt wanna beg your pardon
And I donβt wanna ask you why
But if I was to go my own way
Would I have to pass you by?
And I donβt wanna beg your pardon
And I donβt wanna ask you why
But if I was to go my own way
Would I have to pass you by?
Ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh
Video:
I can relate to this :>