Wakeman's Air - Chavez

I’m not sure about the air

Don’t law low, stop this cold (the hour is short)

To feed the tongue into the fold

Hide these hours

Hide these hours, Until

You’re waiting for the ropes to split

Hiding on the maiden ship

And you caught the crowd, went over after them wait in your wake

No one’s in your wake

You’re waiting for the ropes to split

Hiding on the maiden ship

And you caught the crowd, went over after them wait in your wake

No one’s in your wake