I was having visions of sugar pastry Cooked up in clarified butter I tried to turn my visions into prayers But I built my castle way high up in the air
Yeah, I came to the gates of the fabled pink city Hungry and tired and cold Swing low, sweet chariot Chrome tailpipe shining bright as spun gold
My brothers picked me up out of the rushes Handed me into the company of evil men But I've inched my way down the eastern seaboard I am coming to Atlanta again
Yeah, I came to the gates of the fabled pink city Hungry and tired and mad as all hell Swing low, sweet jewel-encrusted chariot Make me young again, make me well
I am the killer dressed in pilgrim's clothing I'm the hard-to-find stations on the AM band I am the white sky high over Tripoli I am the land mine hidden in the sand
Yeah, I came to the gates of the fabled pink city Hungry and tired and alone Swing low, sweet, sweet chariot Coming forth to carry me homeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
