From:
I got two strong arms
Blessings of Babylon Time
to carry on and try
For sins and false alarms
Soul to America the brave
Wise men save
Near a tree by a river
There's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of Aran
Goes around and around
And his mind is a beacon
In the veil of the night
For a strange kind of fashion
There's a wrong and a right
He'll never Never fight over you
I got time to kill
Sly looks in corridors Without a plan
of yours A blackbird sings on bluebird hill
Thanks to the calling of the wild
Wise men's child.
I got plans for us
Nights in the scullery And days
instead of me I only know what to discuss
All for anything but light
Wise men fighting over you
It's not me you see
Pieces of valentine With just
a song of mine To keep from burning history
Seasons of gasoline and gold
Wise men fold
Near a tree by a river
There's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of Aran
Goes around and around
And his mind is a beacon
In the veil of the night
For a strange kind of fashion
There's a wrong and a right
He'll never Never fight over you
I got time to kill
Sly looks in corridors
Without a plan of yours
A blackbird sings on bluebird hill
Thanks to the calling of the wild
Wise men's child
Translate to:
I got two strong arms
Blessings of Babylon Time
to carry on and try
For sins and false alarms
Soul to America the brave
Wise men save
Near a tree by a river
There's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of Aran
Goes around and around
And his mind is a beacon
In the veil of the night
For a strange kind of fashion
There's a wrong and a right
He'll never Never fight over you
I got time to kill
Sly looks in corridors Without a plan
of yours A blackbird sings on bluebird hill
Thanks to the calling of the wild
Wise men's child.
I got plans for us
Nights in the scullery And days
instead of me I only know what to discuss
All for anything but light
Wise men fighting over you
It's not me you see
Pieces of valentine With just
a song of mine To keep from burning history
Seasons of gasoline and gold
Wise men fold
Near a tree by a river
There's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of Aran
Goes around and around
And his mind is a beacon
In the veil of the night
For a strange kind of fashion
There's a wrong and a right
He'll never Never fight over you
I got time to kill
Sly looks in corridors
Without a plan of yours
A blackbird sings on bluebird hill
Thanks to the calling of the wild
Wise men's child