-
By Woven Hand, Now is the end of the gentile
Pluck aeolian harp, my
-
By Woven Hand, Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
It's not warm when she's
-
By Woven Hand, It's always cold when she's away
Ain't no sunshine when she's
-
By Woven Hand, Do tell, how is the little pilgrim's progress
Does he endeavor
-
By Woven Hand, do tell
how is
the little pilgrims progress
does he endeavour to perservere
close
-
By Woven Hand, Thy will be done
Here on this highway
In every house and
-
By Woven Hand, Hidden inside him
Music in the dark
This conquering kindness
To all in
-
By Woven Hand, Shake, sleep, wool and glass
Hung on nails, here and there
Wails
-
By Woven Hand, Deeply shaken see I come that way
Ill at ease in
-
By Woven Hand, He come up and
Throw himself down
He finds no strength to
-
By Woven Hand, I must miss you
Under the ashen sky
And out from among
-
By Woven Hand, what are you about
say something secret
in an old order hush
trouble
-
By Woven Hand, The morning comes, I've not yet closed my eyes
Cold and
-
By Woven Hand, And in so
They took on
As far as one can go
To
-
By Woven Hand, Shook out my salvation in all four corners of my
-
By Woven Hand, The night holds
Holds a candle to you
I see you are
-
By Woven Hand, I am nothing without
his ghost within
and all your wooden eyes
-
By Woven Hand, These thoughts of you, they are a gift
The smell of
-
By Woven Hand, we hit the floor
just like her blue silk slip
dark puritan
-
By Woven Hand, Medicine tongue and a heavy hand together make a fist
They
-
By Woven Hand, (instrumental)
-
By Woven Hand, i changed my mind
and looked no better
hard of hart blind
-
By Woven Hand, (instrumental)
-
By Woven Hand, You are a fine noise
I must take care for you
My
-
By Woven Hand, Down in yon forest there stands a hall
Bells of paradise
-
By Woven Hand, In the helmet of his salvation
With his belt of truth
The
-
By Woven Hand, She into me
See into me
Soaring over my heart
She for the
-
By Woven Hand, Behind a door
Hand to face
Conscience is the wound
His hand for
-
By Woven Hand, The songs begin at nightfall
The wind blows to the north
The
-
By Woven Hand, The color has left you
No your colors fall
For her no