Flow my teares fall from your springs,
Exilde for ever: Let me morne
Where nights black bird hir sad infamy sings,
There let me live forlorne.
Downe vaine lights shine you no more,
No nights are dark enough for those
That in dispaire their last fortunes deplore,
Light doth but shame disclose.
Never may my woes be relieved,
Since pittie is fled,
And teares, and sighes, and grones
My wearie days of all joyes have deprived.
From the highest spire of contentment,
My fortune is throwne,
And feare, and griefe, and paine
For my deserts, are my hopes since hope is gone.
Hark you shadowes that in darnesse dwell,
Learn to contemne light,
Happy that in hell
Feele not the worlds despite.
Flow, My Tears (Lachrimae) Video (MV)
Performed By: Sting
From Album: Songs from the Labyrinth
Language: English
Written by: EDIN KARAMAZOV, GORDON SUMNER, TRAD, Traditional
Year: 2006
Sting - Flow, My Tears (Lachrimae) Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Flow my teares fall from your springs,
Exilde for ever: Let me morne
Where nights black bird hir sad infamy sings,
There let me live forlorne.
Downe vaine lights shine you no more,
No nights are dark enough for those
That in dispaire their last fortunes deplore,
Light doth but shame disclose.
Never may my woes be relieved,
Since pittie is fled,
And teares, and sighes, and grones
My wearie days of all joyes have deprived.
From the highest spire of contentment,
My fortune is throwne,
And feare, and griefe, and paine
For my deserts, are my hopes since hope is gone.
Hark you shadowes that in darnesse dwell,
Learn to contemne light,
Happy that in hell
Feele not the worlds despite.
Exilde for ever: Let me morne
Where nights black bird hir sad infamy sings,
There let me live forlorne.
Downe vaine lights shine you no more,
No nights are dark enough for those
That in dispaire their last fortunes deplore,
Light doth but shame disclose.
Never may my woes be relieved,
Since pittie is fled,
And teares, and sighes, and grones
My wearie days of all joyes have deprived.
From the highest spire of contentment,
My fortune is throwne,
And feare, and griefe, and paine
For my deserts, are my hopes since hope is gone.
Hark you shadowes that in darnesse dwell,
Learn to contemne light,
Happy that in hell
Feele not the worlds despite.
Writer: EDIN KARAMAZOV, GORDON SUMNER, TRAD, Traditional
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
