(Bowie/ Gabrels) Till the sun blisters and sprays And every lamb ceases to graze When the kiss of the comb Tears my face from the bone CHORUS I'll be
: (Bowie/ Gabrels) Till the sun blisters and sprays And every lamb ceases to graze When the kiss of the comb Tears my face from the bone CHORUS I'll
(Bowie/ Gabrels) Till the sun blisters and sprays And every lamb ceases to graze When the kiss of the comb Tears my face from the bone CHORUS I'll
