I'm just an old yout, with a cane made of root
And a dog with a nasal disease
I sit when it's breezing, my dogs always sneezing
I swear it's the voice of Louise
Why do you do when you don't have a clue
And the only thing doing is nothing at all
'Cept wait for night fall when the will of the wind has its way in the grass on a summer's day
And the rope ends that hung above layers of dung had little on all sides but air
In the buzzing dry wheat that wisps my bare feet, I step on my doggies despair
Why do you do when you don't have a clue
And the only thing doing is nothing at all
'Cept wait for night fall when the will of the wind has its way in the grass on a summer's day
I'm just an old yout, with a cane made of root
And a dog with a nasal disease
Andrew Birds Bowl Of Fire - Nuthinduan Waltz Lyrics
Andrew Birds Bowl Of Fire - Nuthinduan Waltz Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
I'm just an old yout, with a cane made of root
And a dog with a nasal disease
I sit when it's breezing, my dogs always sneezing
I swear it's the voice of Louise
Why do you do when you don't have a clue
And the only thing doing is nothing at all
'Cept wait for night fall when the will of the wind has its way in the grass on a summer's day
And the rope ends that hung above layers of dung had little on all sides but air
In the buzzing dry wheat that wisps my bare feet, I step on my doggies despair
Why do you do when you don't have a clue
And the only thing doing is nothing at all
'Cept wait for night fall when the will of the wind has its way in the grass on a summer's day
I'm just an old yout, with a cane made of root
And a dog with a nasal disease
And a dog with a nasal disease
I sit when it's breezing, my dogs always sneezing
I swear it's the voice of Louise
Why do you do when you don't have a clue
And the only thing doing is nothing at all
'Cept wait for night fall when the will of the wind has its way in the grass on a summer's day
And the rope ends that hung above layers of dung had little on all sides but air
In the buzzing dry wheat that wisps my bare feet, I step on my doggies despair
Why do you do when you don't have a clue
And the only thing doing is nothing at all
'Cept wait for night fall when the will of the wind has its way in the grass on a summer's day
I'm just an old yout, with a cane made of root
And a dog with a nasal disease