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Superstition - Single Version

de Paul Simon

Love is like a braid, some say
And I, I don't disbelieve it
Cowrie shells, fine combs made of jade
To ornament and weave it

I live a life of pleasant sorrows
Until the real deal came
Broke me like a twig in a winter gale
Called me by my name

And in that time of prayer and waiting
Where doubt and reason dwell
A jury sat deliberating
All is lost or all is well

Home, home
Sun on my doorstep
Shocks me to find
I'm a child again еntwined
In your love, in your light
In your cool summer shadе

The garden keeps a rose and a thorn
And once the choice is made
All that's left is
Mending what was torn
Love is like a braid
Love is like a braid

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