Wake, wake, wake, I'm like cold glazed stones of the sea
And I would let my tongue critter to the thoughts that arise in me
Oh well for the fisherman's boy that shouts with his sister if you lay
Oh well for the sailor lad that he sings in his boat on the bay
And the stately ships go on to the haven under the hill
But oh for the touch of a banished hand and the sound of a voice that is still
Break, break, break at the foot of that crimson sea
But the tender grace of a day that is dead will never come back to me
Oh well for the fisherman's boy that shouts with his sister if you lay
Oh well for the sailor lad that he sings in his boat on the bay
And the stately ships go on to the haven under the hill
But oh for the touch of a banished hand and the sound of a voice that is still
Break, break, break at the foot of that crimson sea
But the tender grace of a day that is dead will never come back to me
Will never come back to me
Break, break, break at the foot of that crimson sea
But the tender grace of a day that is dead will never come back to me
Break, break at the foot of that crimson sea
But the tender grace of a day that is dead will never come back to me
MMMC - Break, Break, Break Lyrics
MMMC - Break, Break, Break Lyrics
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English
Wake, wake, wake, I'm like cold glazed stones of the sea
And I would let my tongue critter to the thoughts that arise in me
Oh well for the fisherman's boy that shouts with his sister if you lay
Oh well for the sailor lad that he sings in his boat on the bay
And the stately ships go on to the haven under the hill
But oh for the touch of a banished hand and the sound of a voice that is still
Break, break, break at the foot of that crimson sea
But the tender grace of a day that is dead will never come back to me
Oh well for the fisherman's boy that shouts with his sister if you lay
Oh well for the sailor lad that he sings in his boat on the bay
And the stately ships go on to the haven under the hill
But oh for the touch of a banished hand and the sound of a voice that is still
Break, break, break at the foot of that crimson sea
But the tender grace of a day that is dead will never come back to me
Will never come back to me
Break, break, break at the foot of that crimson sea
But the tender grace of a day that is dead will never come back to me
Break, break at the foot of that crimson sea
But the tender grace of a day that is dead will never come back to me
And I would let my tongue critter to the thoughts that arise in me
Oh well for the fisherman's boy that shouts with his sister if you lay
Oh well for the sailor lad that he sings in his boat on the bay
And the stately ships go on to the haven under the hill
But oh for the touch of a banished hand and the sound of a voice that is still
Break, break, break at the foot of that crimson sea
But the tender grace of a day that is dead will never come back to me
Oh well for the fisherman's boy that shouts with his sister if you lay
Oh well for the sailor lad that he sings in his boat on the bay
And the stately ships go on to the haven under the hill
But oh for the touch of a banished hand and the sound of a voice that is still
Break, break, break at the foot of that crimson sea
But the tender grace of a day that is dead will never come back to me
Will never come back to me
Break, break, break at the foot of that crimson sea
But the tender grace of a day that is dead will never come back to me
Break, break at the foot of that crimson sea
But the tender grace of a day that is dead will never come back to me
Writer: ALFRED TENNYSON, COLIN JAMES BRUMBY
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, O/B/O DistroKid