Van sommige dingen krijg ik nooit genoeg, daarom dit streepje muziek, doodsimpel, weinig om het lijf, maar zo verdomd heilzaam. Niet toevallig ook dat het een riedeltje is van Ierse barden.

Shut your eyes and think of somewhere
Somewhere cold and caked in snow
By the fire we break the quiet
Learn to wear each other well

And when the worrying starts to hurt
and the world feels like graves of dirt
Just close your eyes until
you can imagine this place, yeah, our secret space at will

Shut your eyes, I spin the big chair
And you’ll feel dizzy, light, and free
And falling gently on the cushion
You can come and sing to me

And when the worrying starts to hurt
and the world feels like graves of dirt
Just close your eyes until
you can imagine this place, yeah, our secret space at will

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