Traveler's tears wounded memories Hand's full of days, these were the ways You looked for home Pale paths change marking out the way Into the grace of day Traveler's tears, wounded memories One hand full of days One hand on the cold hard ground It's as they say: It's coldest before the dawn As the cold hard ground Would signify White Angel, White Angel, give me light I have passed such a long time In the cold dark night My bruised and burning eyes Await their dream of morning Put your hand to the plow Dry your traveler's tears Lick your wounds Dress your memories In wood betony It's as you'd own: It's coldest before the dawn And in your bones You know the way back home
So some reason this song FEELS to me, like one of those hot, close evenings in summer when i was a kid and would have a headache, or a stomach ache. The pain made focusing hard, and the darkness seems to press in close, and the shadows seem thick and fleshly, like tall spindly forms walking in and out of the silver moonlight. It's like... there's this false sense of calm by the sweetness of the voice, but somehow everything else is dark, deep and unknowably threatening. I LOVE the song, but even so it carries that feeling for me, I don't know why.
Traveler's tears, wounded memories Hands full of days, these were the ways You looked for home Pale paths change, marking out the way Into the grace of day Traveler's tears, wounded memories One hand full of days One hand on the cold hard ground It's as they say: It's coldest before the dawn As the cold hard ground Would signify White Angel, White Angel, give me light I have passed such a long time In the cold dark night My bruised and burning eyes Await their dream of morning Put your hand to the plow Dry your traveler's tears Lick your wounds Dress your memories In woodbettany It's as you'd own: It's coldest before the dawn And in your bones You know the way back home My bruised and burning eyes Await their dream Of morning
Traveler's tears, wounded memories Hands full of days, these were the ways You looked for home Pale paths change, marking out the way Into the grace of day Traveler's tears, wounded memories One hand full of days One hand on the cold hard ground It's as they say: It's coldest before the dawn As the cold hard ground White Angel, White Angel, give me light I have passed such a long time In the cold dark night My bruised and burning eyes Await their dream of morning Put your hand to the plow Dry your traveler's tears Lick your wounds Dress your memories In wood betony It's as you'd own: It's coldest before the dawn And in your bones You know the way back home My bruised and burning eyes Await their dream of morning
Traveler's tears wounded memories
Hand's full of days, these were the ways
You looked for home
Pale paths change marking out the way
Into the grace of day
Traveler's tears, wounded memories
One hand full of days
One hand on the cold hard ground
It's as they say:
It's coldest before the dawn
As the cold hard ground
Would signify
White Angel, White Angel, give me light
I have passed such a long time
In the cold dark night
My bruised and burning eyes
Await their dream of morning
Put your hand to the plow
Dry your traveler's tears
Lick your wounds
Dress your memories
In wood betony
It's as you'd own:
It's coldest before the dawn
And in your bones
You know the way back home
Spas Merci
now this is real folk. bringing us back to the earth.
White Angel, White Angel... : (
My new so favorite band! I listen them tonight while the night outside is so silent.
I love your name and the icon pic ! 🌲☕
Отлично ребята играют.
So some reason this song FEELS to me, like one of those hot, close evenings in summer when i was a kid and would have a headache, or a stomach ache. The pain made focusing hard, and the darkness seems to press in close, and the shadows seem thick and fleshly, like tall spindly forms walking in and out of the silver moonlight.
It's like... there's this false sense of calm by the sweetness of the voice, but somehow everything else is dark, deep and unknowably threatening.
I LOVE the song, but even so it carries that feeling for me, I don't know why.
Beautiful voice, beautiful man. Simply amazing. 🍃
Absolutely gorgeous
Wonderful. Exceptional. Soothing. I'm amazed.
It's amazing. I love this song!
So beautiful...
what is not to love here if one loves good acoustic singersongwriting...glorious!
Muy bella canción....triste llega al alma...
Sounds like a dying tree leaving some seeds to grow up.
We signify.
Wonderful.
Yep. This right here, peeps.
White angel give me light ✔️
πανέμορφο τραγούδι
Sublime!
Beautiful song
dolce e malinconica
Beautiful
yes, it is
Srdjan Saljic rest in peace my friend
@@iarlypatricio4448 Why?
🖤
İki adamı eyni vaxtda çox sevebilersen ,dərdindən ölə də bilərsən , amma bir qədəh sadəcə 1 nəfərin şərəfinə qalxar
Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ... ♥
Apocalyptic folk.,..
11/2/2023 🇲🇦
Anyone got the lyrics?
Traveler's tears, wounded memories
Hands full of days, these were the ways
You looked for home
Pale paths change, marking out the way
Into the grace of day
Traveler's tears, wounded memories
One hand full of days
One hand on the cold hard ground
It's as they say:
It's coldest before the dawn
As the cold hard ground
Would signify
White Angel, White Angel, give me light
I have passed such a long time
In the cold dark night
My bruised and burning eyes
Await their dream of morning
Put your hand to the plow
Dry your traveler's tears
Lick your wounds
Dress your memories
In woodbettany
It's as you'd own:
It's coldest before the dawn
And in your bones
You know the way back home
My bruised and burning eyes
Await their dream
Of morning
eve dönüş yolu
:)
Please can you tell me: who drawed that picture?
Traveler's tears, wounded memories Hands full of days, these were the ways You looked for home Pale paths change, marking out the way Into the grace of day Traveler's tears, wounded memories One hand full of days One hand on the cold hard ground It's as they say: It's coldest before the dawn As the cold hard ground White Angel, White Angel, give me light I have passed such a long time In the cold dark night My bruised and burning eyes Await their dream of morning Put your hand to the plow Dry your traveler's tears Lick your wounds Dress your memories In wood betony It's as you'd own: It's coldest before the dawn And in your bones You know the way back home My bruised and burning eyes Await their dream of morning