When These Sands Are Beds Again Songtext
von Turner Cody
When These Sands Are Beds Again Songtext
When again these sands are beds
When these sands are beds again
Once then found by hands and legs
Once then formed by heads and limbs
By then will things condemned begin
To find revenge in the flames and wind
To make amends by violence
The judgments of defenseless men
She has said that she believes
In kinds of modern prophecy
But all she wants is to fall asleep
On a bed of sand on a distant beach
She has said that she has seen
A vision in a restless dream
She has said, and I agree
That this is not the place to be
Say goodbye to me, my friend
I leave you as the evening ends
Say goodbye to me, my love
I leave you as the morning comes
If this is not a plague, my dear
I will return within a year
And if in time I don′t appear
I'll be the wind inside your hair
When again these sands are beds
When these sands are beds again
Once then found by hands and legs
Once then formed by heads and limbs
The sea will soothe the wounds of them
Whose salt will be their medicine
And fruit will drop from trees that bend
When these sands are beds again
When these sands are beds again
Once then found by hands and legs
Once then formed by heads and limbs
By then will things condemned begin
To find revenge in the flames and wind
To make amends by violence
The judgments of defenseless men
She has said that she believes
In kinds of modern prophecy
But all she wants is to fall asleep
On a bed of sand on a distant beach
She has said that she has seen
A vision in a restless dream
She has said, and I agree
That this is not the place to be
Say goodbye to me, my friend
I leave you as the evening ends
Say goodbye to me, my love
I leave you as the morning comes
If this is not a plague, my dear
I will return within a year
And if in time I don′t appear
I'll be the wind inside your hair
When again these sands are beds
When these sands are beds again
Once then found by hands and legs
Once then formed by heads and limbs
The sea will soothe the wounds of them
Whose salt will be their medicine
And fruit will drop from trees that bend
When these sands are beds again
Writer(s): Turner Kniffin Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com