"ThirtySevenMiles" lyrics
Matoma & Arve Tellefsen Lyrics
(feat. May)
When no one thinks someone can live
He's an inventive guy
On and on adventures he will fly
Through the storm, through the sand
He'll be brave and make a stand
Turning junk into diamonds
Every city every land
And from Paris to the Nile
He will wander every mile
There's no other place like his village old and wise
When the world is storming he returns home
To a place of peace where the wild woods can roam
Thirty seven miles to the north
Lies his little town where lands and mountains grow
And no tempo car
Like a shooting star
Two companions near
With no inhibitions and no fear
Through the storm, through the sand
He'll be brave and make a stand
Turning junk into diamonds
Every city every land
And from Paris to the Nile
He will wander every mile
There's no other place like his village old and wise
When the world is storming he returns home
To a place of peace where the wild woods can roam
Thirty seven miles to the north
Lies his little town where lands and mountains grow
When the world is storming he returns home
To a place of peace where the wild woods can roam
Thirty seven miles to the north
Lies his little town where lands and mountains grow
He's an inventive guy
On and on adventures he will fly
Through the storm, through the sand
He'll be brave and make a stand
Turning junk into diamonds
Every city every land
And from Paris to the Nile
He will wander every mile
There's no other place like his village old and wise
When the world is storming he returns home
To a place of peace where the wild woods can roam
Thirty seven miles to the north
Lies his little town where lands and mountains grow
And no tempo car
Like a shooting star
Two companions near
With no inhibitions and no fear
Through the storm, through the sand
He'll be brave and make a stand
Turning junk into diamonds
Every city every land
And from Paris to the Nile
He will wander every mile
There's no other place like his village old and wise
When the world is storming he returns home
To a place of peace where the wild woods can roam
Thirty seven miles to the north
Lies his little town where lands and mountains grow
When the world is storming he returns home
To a place of peace where the wild woods can roam
Thirty seven miles to the north
Lies his little town where lands and mountains grow
