Frédérique Spigt
Sing to my heart
> 1996 - Con la piccola orchestra
Sing to my heart (3:23) Don’t tell your children They might get hurt Wash away the shame The gore, the dirt Hang on mother Mother hang on ‘Till the wire’s cut And the shackles undone Boots still stepping on her hand She’ll cringe to another command Sing to my heart Sing to my heart I’m a government’s toy I’m trained to maim I’m a soldier boy But my heart’s in pain My heart’s in pain You gotta line up You better lift your chin You gotta take orders Let the work begin Shine on woman Woman, shine on The tower’s tumbling That’s blinding the sun Boots still stepping on her hand She’ll cringe to another command Sing to my heart Sing to my heart I’m a government’s toy I’m trained to maim I’m a soldier boy But my heart’s in pain My heart’s in pain I’ll sing so I can shoot We gotta win the war We gotta be good We gotta be good (Sing) you rather sing to my heart (Sing) oh, oh my sing to my heart I’m a government’s toy Trained to maim A soldier boy But my heart’s in pain My heart’s in pain Don’t tell your children They might get hurt Wash away the shame Muziek/tekst: Frédérique Spigt. (P) 1996 Pixy Music/Peer Music/EMI Music Publishing (C) 1996 Peer-Southern Productions-bv
Sing to my heart
> 1996 - Con la piccola orchestra
Sing to my heart (3:23) Don’t tell your children They might get hurt Wash away the shame The gore, the dirt Hang on mother Mother hang on ‘Till the wire’s cut And the shackles undone Boots still stepping on her hand She’ll cringe to another command Sing to my heart Sing to my heart I’m a government’s toy I’m trained to maim I’m a soldier boy But my heart’s in pain My heart’s in pain You gotta line up You better lift your chin You gotta take orders Let the work begin Shine on woman Woman, shine on The tower’s tumbling That’s blinding the sun Boots still stepping on her hand She’ll cringe to another command Sing to my heart Sing to my heart I’m a government’s toy I’m trained to maim I’m a soldier boy But my heart’s in pain My heart’s in pain I’ll sing so I can shoot We gotta win the war We gotta be good We gotta be good (Sing) you rather sing to my heart (Sing) oh, oh my sing to my heart I’m a government’s toy Trained to maim A soldier boy But my heart’s in pain My heart’s in pain Don’t tell your children They might get hurt Wash away the shame Muziek/tekst: Frédérique Spigt. (P) 1996 Pixy Music/Peer Music/EMI Music Publishing (C) 1996 Peer-Southern Productions-bv Frédérique Spigt