We are people of the Lord?s hands Salt for the Earth We are people of the Lord?s hands Light for the world Let the people of the Lord?s hands Rise up
In this place, O Lord, to you we pray Tiny room, grand edifice Nothing more than shelter is this Not of bricks or mortar, wood or clay Built of those
Raise your voice to our God and King Raise your voice, raise your voice and sing Raise your voice to our God above Raise your voice to proclaim His love
REFRAIN: Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ King of endless glory! People, now rejoice and shout, cry out ?Hosanna!? Praise to him on whom God?s favor
Mein Genitiv krA¤nkelt geflissentlich nun verwirft eine Frage in tosendem Reigen Zerfrisst euch noch immer das alberne Tun ? das stumm nur sich atmet
(music by bartsch/matton - january 93) (poems by bartsch - december 92) When the dark lord told me to live I felt the raised lust of possession afterwards
Chorus: Put my head up against the wall I couldn't help but stall With Eleven regrets and one flower I'm lost and I'm ashamed cause all I have to give
Surface, through the circuits, breaker breaker. Someone's calling but there's no one on the line. Positive, negative, negative, Breaker breaker. These
She hears his heavy breathing in the dark His footsteps coming closer down the hall She's so ashamed, she's daddy's secret love She wants to cry, she
A complicated sunset Sets the mood within the room All bets are up and We keep looking down To try and find The will to turn this around. I spent
Well just imagine my surprise to be there If you touched me with a feather I'd fall I guess that you could say we finally made it We played the Carolina
I programmed my abdomen I don't think about it anymore It doesn't tell me what to do I got the network to my nerves now It's oh so automatic I just
I guess you noticed there is only eleven roses I chose them from our garden where they grew Take the roses and look into the mirror And the twelfth rose
She was a lady from the country of eleven hundred springs She could drink more beer than I could buy She was a lady from the country of eleven hundred
Ah! Hey! Every night about, every night about Every night about eleven o'clock Every night about, every night about Every night about eleven o'clock
Stevie said now don't look round they're watching us Two girls in the corner of that dodgy club And the grey eyes, the storm that I've come to know and
Well it ain't my style To be jealous and bad mouthin' I can see some trouble comin' But I've known a while But I think you might regret it Will you take
Move your body to the rhythm of passion Let senses overwhelm ratio Don't ask anything to yourself Don't waste this moment The echo of weeping is armored