It's a holy place if you see things that way Then they rattle the bones and the analysts play From his backward collar on a worn out book Another working class poet with an abstract look So take me up to the edge of the world And push me over again Lead me up to the edge of the world There comes a time Now, shake your hair and rattle your cans It's a service funded by a self-made man Talks to victims and industrial spies He feeds you tobacco for the four-minute mile So take me up to the edge of the world And push me over again Lead me up to the edge of the world There comes a time With some strange god and a good right hand We can chase the ghost from the promised land If the promised land turns out as it should We can flood the place with consumer goods When the African general meets the bingo queen And the collective farmer joins the teenage dream When the miracle worker saves the chat show host And the caveman paints another holy ghost So take me up to the edge of the world And push me over again Lead me up to the edge of the world There comes a time So take me up to the edge of the world And push me over again Lead me up to the edge of the world There comes a time We can storm the walls in our leisure wear While we trap the beast in his stormy lair Then we'll smooth his image and we'll save his soul While we fill our schools with the gold we stole With some strange god and a good right hand We can chase the ghost from the promised land If the promised land turns out as it should We can flood the place with consumer goodsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
