Instrumenty
Ensembles
Opera
Kompozytorzy
Wykonawcy

Teksty: Clarks. Let It Go. Flame.

The ceiling's low, the walls are thin
The little stars upon your skin
I cannot sleep and I'm wound too tight
The morning comes and I feel alright

And take me down home on holiday
And lead me into your secret hideaway
Let your hair fall down onto my face

And don't turn away from the flame
And don't hide your face from the rain
Lead me down, show me the way
But don?t turn away from the flame

I know you told me not to run
It's no big deal, I?m just having fun
Why don't you come down to the show?
I know we can?t help who we know

And take me down home on holiday
And lean into your secret hideaway
And let your hair fall down onto my face

And don't turn away from the flame
And don't hide your face from the rain
Lead me down, show me the way
But don't turn away from the flame

And who am I to judge
Talk down or bear a grudge
And who am I to lie
But don?t say goodbye

Our bodies close and I feel your hand
No secret vow, no silent plan
The air is low, the walls are thin
I know we can?t help where we've been

And take me down home on holiday
Lead into your secret hideaway
Let your hair fall down onto my face

And don't turn away from the flame
And don't hide your face from the rain
Lead me down, show me the way
But don't turn away from the flame