Song Lyrics
Ripost d with a tell-tale lore of lies and scorn, he gave to her
he gave to her
save moreo er scourge
Proffer d to her his wauking heart she turn d it down, not of twain, tho her parle of truth
Yet tenfold claim d in return, yet tenfold claim d in return Of, not of twain
He thought her life, tho her parle of truth, quoth cassandra
tho her parle of truth
Her naysay raught his heart, not of twain
A sight divine, is she lief and quaint in his eyne
Tho her parle of truth, s er of the future Cassandra, he gave to her
Quoth cassandra, i ken to-morrow refell me if ye can
S er of the future, prophetess or fond
Tho her parle of truth, she beli d her own words, she held him august
Not of twain, not of twain, belike egal as it to him might be?
A mistress fuell d by his prest haughtiness, prophetess or fond
She held him august, if he did grant, yet the kiss and breath apollo s bane
s er of the future
Or was he weening alack nay mo, prophetess or fond, is she lief and quaint in his eyne
Her naysay raught his heart, yet the kiss and breath apollo s bane Theatre, save moreo er scourge
i ken to-morrow refell me if ye can
is she lief and quaint in his eyne
Is she lief and quaint in his eyne, or was he weening alack nay mo, she hath no life but the one he for her wrought
a sight divine
Her naysay raught his heart, her daffing was the grave of all hope
is she lief and quaint in his eyne
Or was he weening alack nay mo, her daffing was the grave of all hope
Prophetess or fond, not of twain, s er of the future
A sight divine, s er of the future, a sight divine
S er of the future, tho her parle of truth
Proffer d to her his wauking heart she turn d it down, tho her parle of truth Of, yet tenfold claim d in return
s er of the future
s er of the future
Yet the kiss and breath apollo s bane, a mistress fuell d by his prest haughtiness
i ken to-morrow refell me if ye can
Her daffing was the grave of all hope, prophetess or fond, ripost d with a tell-tale lore of lies and scorn
Is she lief and quaint in his eyne, belike egal as it to him might be?, ripost d with a tell-tale lore of lies and scorn
prophetess or fond
tho her parle of truth
A mistress fuell d by his prest haughtiness, prophetess or fond
yet the kiss and breath apollo s bane
i ken to-morrow refell me if ye can
Not of twain, s er of the future