| Song | I Was On The Back Of A Nightingale |
| Artist | Her Name Is Calla |
| Album | Live at St Pancras Old Church #2 |
| I was on the back of a nightingale, living like a king; | |
| Listening to the songs that you’d sing. | |
| Home fires were burning and the smoke stung our eyes; | |
| We were blind from birth, until that night. | |
| Love grows old and we die younger each time. | |
| Heaven loves a martyr | |
| And how am I supposed to run with my legs sunk in the mud? | |
| I wish I had grown up a little longer | |
| And if we’d flown south, we’d have a home at least for now; | |
| Love grows old | |
| And I lived like a king |
| I was on the back of a nightingale, living like a king | |
| Listening to the songs that you' d sing. | |
| Home fires were burning and the smoke stung our eyes | |
| We were blind from birth, until that night. | |
| Love grows old and we die younger each time. | |
| Heaven loves a martyr | |
| And how am I supposed to run with my legs sunk in the mud? | |
| I wish I had grown up a little longer | |
| And if we' d flown south, we' d have a home at least for now | |
| Love grows old | |
| And I lived like a king |