Yaelokre Yaelokre - Songs of Origin: My farewells to the fields / Bird cage blue and yellow (Lyrics)

🎯 Загружено автоматически через бота: 🚫 Оригинал видео: 📺 Данное видео принадлежит каналу «Yaelokre» (@Yaelokre). Оно представлено в нашем сообществе исключительно в информационных, научных, образовательных или культурных целях. Наше сообщество не утверждает никаких прав на данное видео. Пожалуйста, поддержите автора, посетив его оригинальный канал. ✉️ Если у вас есть претензии к авторским правам на данное видео, пожалуйста, свяжитесь с нами по почте support@, и мы немедленно удалим его. 📃 Оригинальное описание: 🪕 Listen to “Songs of Origin“ 🐦📖🌾 𓆱 Townlets adorned with memories unvarnished or forged, a mother who sought and she to never recall. Forgotten they were, by word, love, or sin. The Croon made a promise, unknown of what’s within. “I will sing you my truth!“ voiced the overwrought rabbit, “And so will I!“ howled the hircine. The conifers twirled, yet the cervid stayed quiet. Music swung along with the crowd as they riot. Be all ears! The Lark is willed, with Songs of Origin: from huts to cages, from house to hills. 🐶 Song, artwork, and characters by Yaelokre 🌻 Socials - 🐹 Produced by medyo maybe & Emil Ortega ⭐ Characters featured: “The Lark“ - Cole, Clémentine, Perrine, and Kingsley (All go by neutral terms (they/it)) 📜 Lyrics The Lark: Where the yarrow grows (Where the yarrow Where the yarrow Where the yarrow) Where the yarrow grows Find me beneath the grove Home Cole: The hills were left quiet and I am in hiding They’ve forgotten, they’ve forgotten I do not want to see I could hear and that’s enough, the clashing of the hoards Hoof by hoof, horn by horn Raging song and an encore I could barely speak, I could only hum a tune And with that I am met with a chorus I am soon Sought and safe behind a wing, my farewells to the fields To the man made of straws To my name To the hills Clémentine: Bird cage blue and yellow Candles warm and windows bare Tracing upturned smiles of portraits Drawn to disappear Flowers never talk, they never want They never need In a cradle gilded, they are left To rot yet never bleed Eyes of silver, mirror, mirror Thread on wood and steel Keep what can be kept And heave to see which one will kneel I’ve been told to wait But why should there be silence Dawning pretty laces Weaving capes of gold And framing muffled faces I can be different I can’t be puppeted Garden evergreen Was what I thought that I would see Branches meet my steps Their kisses open up ravines Fences frozen in a dance They’ve yet to perform I leave the house and the Baroness Buried in before Finndu mig í framtíðinni Perrine & Kingsley: Malayang maya, malayo-layo Malayang maya, malayo-layo Malayang maya, malayo-layo Malayang maya, malayo-layo Cole & Clémentine: Rödd eins og bjalla heldur okkur öruggum frá framtíðinni