Come, heavy Sleep the image of true death;
And close up these my weary weeping eyes:
Whose spring of tears doth stop my vital breath,
And tears my heart with Sorrow's sigh-swoll'n cries:
Come and possess my tired thoughts, worn soul,
That living dies, till thou on me be stole.
Great voice!
bzeliotis 2 months ago
Excellent! I did the same song with tenor and decided against the capo, but in this version it really works, well done!
OliverThedieck 1 year ago