Текст: Yann Tiersen. Dried Sea.

Our trouble
Come for me
I row a dried up sea
Trouble tore at my sleep(sleeve?)
I row a dried up sea

Ribbons to hide my face
Shame does not come to claim
Trouble tore at my sleep(sleeve?)
I row a dried up sea

Never you mind
You can manage
Never you mind
You can manage

Never you mind
You can manage
Never you mind

Well....fuck that (?)
I fail to explain (?)

Never you mind
You can manage
And never you mind

If, when you stand (?)
Would you sleep (? )

Never you mind
You can manage
If you try
You can manage
You can manage
You can manage
If you try