The tongues of some men are made of metal The tongues of some men are made of oil But the keeper of those men never rolled Their tongues for anybodys free ride but his own Now the oily tongues are thirsty for black gold.
But the old men are going to bed Theyll be sleeping through the future And the children red with fire They got to move away the old mans rusty beds.
Now the tongue, the tongue of a master That should be laughter - with dancing legs Like a flying wheel for the weak and sad man Some tongues of man are made of silence And your eyes will listen.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
