Apples & Eve - L'homme lyrics

At night you dream of what broken hands may make, Come sunrise youve forgotten to create. Only life can help mend your broken bones For stones were thrown when battles took place. You fought with your sticks, Memories without faith. From roots of sacred trees. Ideas waver in the southern breeze. The paper shackles you down. Dionysus sat with j**els at his feet, Silver thread in his hair On a throne of brittle bones Unbeknown to the wandering spirits of the dark. Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done Eyes, Scratched with desire Saw only one You fought with your sticks, Memories without faith. From roots of sacred trees. Ideas waver in the southern breeze. The paper shackles you down. You fought with your sticks, Memories without faith. From roots of sacred trees. Ideas waver in the southern breeze. The paper shackles you down.