7 & 3 Is the Striker’s Name
Beak to bleak and crossing every line
The winds of change and the sands of time
7 & 3 is the striker's name
Washing his hands as he walks away
Come on, come on
The sky is bright
Our wings are clipped
But we still might fly away
Come on, come on
The sky is bright
Our wings are clipped
But we still might fly away
Curse my master and his slave
And his soldiers too
Curse those fuckers, in the castle
They're all bastards too
I could be stable, I might be fine
I don't want to fuck it up this time
Well, she loves me tender, she loves me strong
We're star crossed lovers and we sing this song
It goes...
Come on, come on!
The sky is bright
Our wings are clipped
But we still might fly away
Come on, come on!
The sky is bright
Our wings are clipped
But we still might fly away
Curse my master and his slave
And his soldiers too
Curse those fuckers, in the castle
They're all bastards too
Away in the night like a thief of old
Not too skinny and not too bold
7 & 3 is the striker's name
Washing his hands as he walks away
She loves me tender and she loves me strong
We're star crossed lovers and we sing this song
It goes...