P.J. Harvey
P.J. Harvey — The wind
P.J. Harvey — The wind (текст песни)
Catherine liked high places High up on the hills A place for making noises Noises like the Whales Here she built a chapel with Her image on the wall A place where she could rest and A place where she could wash and listen to the wind blow She dreamt of children’s voices And torture on the wheel Patron-Saint of nothing A woman of the hills She once was a lady Of pleasure, and high-born A lady of the city But now she sits and moans