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Ballade At Thirty-Five

Carla Bruni
2007-01-152:35 phútLời đồng bộ

"Ballade At Thirty-Five" là bài hát của Carla Bruni, 2007, Pop. Thời lượng 2:35, 36 lines / 215 words.

Lời bài hát

0:04This no song of ingenue
0:07This no ballad of innocence
0:11This the rhyme of a lady who
0:15Followed ever her natural bents
0:18This a solo of sapience
0:22This a chantey of sophistry
0:26This the sum of experiments
0:29I loved them 'til they loved me
0:33I loved them 'til they loved me
0:36I loved them 'til they loved me
0:47Decked in garments of sable hue
0:51Daubed with ashes of myriad Lents
0:54Wearing shower bouquets of rue
0:58Walk I ever in penitence
1:01Oft I roam as my heart repents
1:05Through God's acres of memory
1:09Marking stones in my reverence
1:12I loved them 'til they loved me
1:16I loved them 'til they loved me
1:19I loved them 'til they loved me
1:29Pictures pass me in long review
1:33Marching columns of dead events
1:37I was tender and often true
1:40Ever a prey to coincidence
1:45Always knew I the consequence
1:48Always saw what the end would be
1:52We're as nature has made us hence
1:55I loved them 'til they loved me
1:59I loved them 'til they loved me
2:02I loved them 'til they loved me
2:13Princes never I'd give offense
2:17Won't you think of me tenderly
2:20You're my strength and my weakness gents
2:27This no song of ingenue
2:31This no ballad of innocence
2:35This the rhyme of a lady who
This  no song of ingenue
This  no ballad of innocence
This  the rhyme of a lady who
Followed ever her natural bents
This  a solo of sapience
This  a chantey of sophistry
This  the sum of experiments
I loved them 'til they loved me
I loved them 'til they loved me
I loved them 'til they loved me
Decked in garments of sable hue
Daubed with ashes of myriad Lents
Wearing shower bouquets of rue
Walk I ever in penitence
Oft I roam  as my heart repents
Through God's acres of memory
Marking stones in my reverence
I loved them 'til they loved me
I loved them 'til they loved me
I loved them 'til they loved me
Pictures pass me in long review
Marching columns of dead events
I was tender and often true
Ever a prey to coincidence
Always knew I the consequence
Always saw what the end would be
We're as nature has made us hence
I loved them 'til they loved me
I loved them 'til they loved me
I loved them 'til they loved me
Princes  never I'd give offense
Won't you think of me tenderly
You're my strength and my weakness  gents
This  no song of ingenue
This  no ballad of innocence
This  the rhyme of a lady who

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