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Lyrics
A plague in the workhouse, a plague on the poor now I feed on my drum 'til I'm dead Yesterday fever, tomorrow St. Peter I'll feed on my drum until thenfull lyrics...
A plague in the workhouse, a plague on the poor now I feed on my drum 'til I'm dead Yesterday fever, tomorrow St. Peter I'll feed on my drum until thenfull lyrics...
Features Of This Song
folk rootsa subtle use of vocal harmony
extensive vamping
a clear focus on recording studio production
acoustic sonority
minor key tonality
a vocal-centric aesthetic
orchestral arranging
a prominent accordion part
acoustic rhythm guitars
prominent percussion
triple note feel
These are just a few of the hundreds of attributes cataloged for this song by the Music Genome Project.
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The pane of my window will flicker and glimmer What melody will see him in my arms again? And the cold beyond the rainfall I feed on my drum 'til I'm dead Yesterday fever, tomorrow St. Peter A plague in the workhouse, a plague on the poor now What melody will lead my lover from his bed? I'll sing of the walls of the well and the house at the top of the hill I won't leave a stitchin' behind Songwriters: Zachary Condon, Owen Pallett I'll sing of the bottles of wine that we left on our old windowsill I'll feed on my drum until then I'll sing of the years you will spend getting sadder and older, oh love Set fire the foundation and burn out the station Oh, what melody will lead my lover from his bed? What melody will see him in my arms again? You'll never get nothing of mine Publisher: EMI MUSIC PUB. LTD.


