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Marche droit

de Devendra Banhart

When they come from the over the mountain
Yeah we'll run we'll run right around them
We've got no guns no we don't have any weapons
Just our corn and the children
The dust runs, the dark clouds, but not us, but not
us
While we pay for mistakes with no meaning
All your gifts and all your peace is deceiving
And still I pay dissolves with believing
That peace comes, their peace comes, that peace comes,
their peace comes
Now that our bones lay buried below us
Just like stones pressed into the earth
Well we ain't known by no one before us
And we begin with this one little birth
That grows on, that grows on, that grows on, that
grows on
Crippled crow say something for grieving
Where do we go once we start leaving
Well close that womb
Or else keep on bleeding
And change your tune
It's got no meaning

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