The Birth
Of Death

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In the lines of your face
There's a road leading to nowhere someday
In the times when we live
There's no legend, so the story goes
Let us meet by the tree in the wood
Where the moonlight makes a rainbow
Let us build our fire high
And make legends we can call our own

In the frown on your face
There's a deepest, darkest valley where no sun shines
In the sadness of your voice
Who can hear the sound of laughter roar?
Let us meet when the stars shining high
Give us light to walk the meadow
Let us build our fire high
And make lives that we can call our own

15. Tuesday Song
(McGowan) This makes me remember 'Harlequinesque' - one highlighted album of our career - this would have fitted very well to it. --Jore I guess this would have fitted very well onto Harlequinesque - which proves my point that I keep writing the same bloody song these days. But it's a pleasant little acoustic number for all that - written on a Tuesday. --Davy