Saint Francis walking on the water All his lambs have gone to slaughter All the creatures who receive his grace You can see them all In his haggard face
Saint Francis begging at your doorway You want to let him in but what will the neighbors say You know you can’t go on but you can’t give up And he answers you With his begging cup
Saint Francis sitting at your table A cup of tea among the faithful Behind a wall that’s made of little lies Much to your surprise You start to cry
By these wounds you will be whole again By these signs you will know You’ll feel a stirring in your soul again ‘Til sweet amnesia takes a hold
Saint Francis sleeping in the meadow His halo is a raven’s shadow He’s been sleeping for 800 years In a potter’s field Full of sparrow’s tears And while we sleep and dream of heaven’s gates Down here on earth The old man waitsTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
