Friday, November 17, 2006

there's the moon asking to stay
long enough for the clouds to fly me away
though it's my time coming I'm not afraid, afraid to die
my fading voice sings of love,
but she cries to the clicking of time,
of time

Wait in the fire, wait in the fire

and she weeps on my arm
walking to the bright lights in sorrow
oh drink a bit of wine we both might go tomorrow, oh my love
and the rain is falling and I believe
my time has come
it reminds me of the pain I might leave
leave behind

wait in the fire, wait in the fire

and I feel them drown my name
so easy to know and forget with this kiss
I'm not afraid to go but it goes so slow

wait in the fire



grace, jeff buckley
17 novembre 1966

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