Слушать бесплатно Cymbaline

The path you tread is narrow and the trumpets sheer and very high The ravens all are watching from a vantage point nearby Apprehension creeping like a tube train up your spine Will the tight rope reach the end, will the final couplet rhyme And it's high time, Cymbaline Please wake me A butterfly with broken wings is falling by your side The ravens all are closing in, there's nowhere you can hide Your manager and agent are both busy on the phone Selling coloured photographs to magazines back home And it's high time, Cymbaline Please wake me The lions converging where you stand, They must have moved the picture plain The leaves are heavy 'round your feet,