Folklore کے بول

On From Here Walkin Dreams Awake I Think Not I Think Not The Sky Comes King Blown in Every Direction And of no Country I Am Straw It Is no Mystery I Know My Way From Here Iron Sharpens Iron Crooked Wooden and Peacock Black I Have Your Feathers Slung Across My Back I´m Not the Only One To Help You Down the Hill My Blue Knuckles do As They Will It Is no Mystery I Know My Way From Here One As Precious As the Other They Go With Me For Today I Am Not a False Conscience A Tyrant Angels Line My Pockets Dear I Walk a Hutterite Mile Look At Me This Once Put An Eye to My Step Look and Furrow Its Only Misery Its Only Ankle Deep It Is no Mystery I Know My Way From Here