Description
Winter The yellow sun Well, it took the hand Of a country boy To a city in a far-off land We made no mark No shadow at all On the ancient, holy streets Where I learned to crawl The broken and the bruised The young and the used The sure and confused All here Words will then land on me Then abandon me Mangle, untangle me Leave me on the floor Rhymes, they sprang in me Summer sang in me But summer sings in me no more Now I'm twenty-five And trying to stay alive In a corner of the world With no clear enemies to fight It's hot as hell We're like butter on toast But there's no army in this world That can fight a ghost The broken and the bruised The young and the used The sure and confused All here Words will then land on me Then abandon me Leave me stranded In guard of the door Rhymes began in me Summer sang in me But summer sings in me no more Listening to the cries The strangers The silence of the foreign grave Listening to the thunder The sky is strange Stretched over everyone Listening to the tales The child sings That goes for days and days Listening to the calls Shouts, frustration At twenty-one I was born a son And on that day I knew I could kill To protect the ones We put bullets in guns Or anything it takes To take a life until it's still |
