Thomas Weelkes - Four arms, two necks, one wreathing
Two pair of lips, one breathing
Fa la la
Two hearts that multiply
Sighs interchangeably
Fa la la
The thought of this confounds me
And as I speak it wounds me
Fa la la
It cannot be express'd
Good help me while I rest
Fa la la
Bad stomachs have their loathing
And O this all is nothing
Fa la la
This so with griefs doth prove
Report oft turns in love
Fa la la
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Thomas Weelkes - What have the gods
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