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The Weight of Years Lyrics

Girls, be good to these spirits
Of music and poetry,
And lift the lyre so clear and sweet
They need with you (?)

But as for me, this body,
Which is now so arthritic:
I cannot play,
I Can barely even hold the instrument,

And oh,
The song grows heavy with the body

Some gloomy poems
Came from these thoughts
And useless,
We are all born to lose life,
Like we lose our youth

And oh,
The song grows heavy with the body.

And so I stepped in quite clearly
From my hiding place
To then suspect
That she would grow old and grey
And he despaired in his mortal way and said

Oh,
The song grows heavy with the body.
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Cover art for The Weight of Years lyrics by Idlewild

:: Idlewild & Edwin Morgan - The Weight of Years ::

Girls, be good to these spirits of music and poetry and lift the lyre so clear and sweet They knead with you

And, as for me, this body which is now so arthritic I cannot play can hardly even hold the instrument

And, oh, the soul grows heavy with the body And, oh, the soul grows heavy without the body

Some gloomy poems came from these thoughts And useless we are all born to lose life like we lose our youth

And, oh, the soul grows heavy with the body And, oh, the soul grows heavy without the body

So I stepped in quite clearly from my hiding place to then suspect that she would grow old and gray and he despaired in his mortal way and said

Oh, the soul grows heavy with the body And, oh, the soul grows heavy without the body

And, oh, the soul grows heavy with the body And, oh, the soul grows heavy without the body

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