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Augustine (live from Patrick's flat)

As the bell tower blocks the summer light

All the seeds in our garden fight

To break and blossom, all to be adored

And look, your skirt is torn

And there's blood on our sheets

As comes the long arm of the law

Fist tight, banging on the door

And knocking me down on its way inAs I pass out into a dream

Of whooping cranes and wooden beams

Great white wings beating

In an attic, in a house, in the dead of night

SingingOh, my Augustine, Augustine

Oh, is this forever, ever?

Oh, oh

Sweet Augustine, Augustine

What does this mean for us?Does it mean that I can never change my ways?

And that's why, love, you shouldn't stay

Still you will and love me

Like a mother or a maid bringing you down, down

Down on your brazen knees

Watering the worms and the weeds

Thinking, why does love leave me so damn cold?

Now I'm getting old

And is this what it should be?

Well, is it?Oh, my Augustine, Augustine.

Oh, is this forever, ever?

Oh, oh

Sweet Augustine, Augustine

Or do we kill this one tonight?And now come the tears, heavy and hot

As it comes clear, this is all we got

As I hold you to my bed

Like a cancer, or a curse

Now be my loving nurse

As we fall back into the impossible dream

Songwriters

PATRICK WOLFPublished by

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