Vladimir Vladimir
I wouldn't call it dark, one spade, three spades
I wouldn't call it light either, four spades pass, oh
Oh, there go all my coins
There's someone at the door, what was that?
There's water nearby, I can tell
Drop down to or pass on by?
Pass on by and after the meeting they asked me
If I would like to become the conductor of their choir
I couldn't believe it, isn't it fantastic?
It's not art, it's self-defense it, it captures him
He has to capture it back, it's a power struggle, self-defense
It's not art, not art, are these your coins? Oh, yeah
Did you sit down? Are you cold? No, I'm cold
I mean, yes, grainy, I was thinking of something else
Pretty cold, no, don't sound like you're reading
It just sort of say it
There are mountains nearby, like you're moving through the night
I can tell and it's grainy, I can hear the coins dropping on them
Drop down to or pass on by?
Pass on by has nothing to do with the church
Because it is a choir from the church
But they say it doesn't matter
We sing other songs as well beauty without scrutiny
That's a true definition of it, I could tell it was beautiful
Before I even saw it and I pressed through
The tourists swimming, swimming through
The freezing pins to see and I couldn't see you
Could say one more silent something
Pressing through the graininess of night
I'm really longing forward to see you
Now, let the music play for a while
Grainy, grainy, this time I remembered to say I love you
And then we moved through a dark valley
And then up into the sky and I said, look, look
But there was not a speck to be seen
But there's water nearby
There is a man, standing in a field
Leans on his hoe, stares down the furrows
Counts on his fingers, one more endless flight
Of the inarticulate soul that he borrows
Vladimir, Vladimir, standing in the field
Till he lines his sight along the furrows
Waiting for the, waiting for the
Waiting for the flight
Set against the fading light
Waiting for his hand to put the hoe down
Waiting for the, waiting for the
Waiting for the flight
