The song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day.
I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument.
The time has not come true the words have not been rightly set;
only there is the agony of wishing in my heart.
I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument.
The time has not come true the words have not been rightly set;
only there is the agony of wishing in my heart.