I woke up thinking about Turkish drummers It didn't take long: I don't know much about Turkish drummers But it made me think of Germany And the guy who sold me cigarettes Who'd been in the Afghan secret police Who made the observation That it's hard... to live
Then I was reminded of the proprietor of a Vietnamese restaurant in Quebec Who used to be head of the secret police in Danang And it occurred to me I was thinking about all this stuff to keep from thinking about something else Isn't that just what secret police are all about now?
Somebody stands at a window Watches the river roll Trains rumble in the foreground With the weight of approaching dawn
Flames from the refinery Rise broken-red and riveting And the high vault of heaven Looks far away and cold
There's a howling in the factory yard There's a pounding in my head I'm swollen up with unshed tears Bloated like the dead
(Instrumental break)
Blood and ashes Time burning On the skyline dark against the stars A solitary horseman Waiting
Lashed to the wheel Ripping in the storm Get up, Jonah It's your time to be born Get up Jonah It's your time to be bornTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
