Glas Bilong Stretim Lo Lyrics

Just wave your hand

I know its sore

Bitter curse

Of spirit poor

And in the end

Which you adore

In the glass

Thin air to sing

To wriggle out

On tented strings

That little light

Which you abhor

In the glass

To clatter gold

Silly cling to slivers of a pattern old

And in the end

As petals fold

Slick with the spill how besotted

Pin pricked and wallow where you got it

Bottle plugged and pruned whats above

Hither toss the book at the decided

Dross-feathered over just to hide it

Dissolve it all and choose the bruise you love

Slick with the spill how besotted

Pin pricked and wallow where you got it

Bottle plugged and pruned whats above