It will not be a tender fire Upon your postcard mountains No golden children Will write hymns about The slow defeat of your reckless destiny
Bullets in the bellies of babies Sleeping in the strangest places Indifferent to the blinding grace of The vapor trails and burning waste Of your baptist skies
Oh! To live in a burning house With burning children eating dust And finger-painting flags Smoke pours out of their eyes They're all hanged up They're praying and saluting
Hey! Okay! Kiss me slowly Beneath the dripping leaves Of our train track trees Though sickly and diseased Some weeds thrive anyways
It will not be a tender fire Upon your postcard mountains No golden children Will write hymns about The slow defeat of your reckless destiny
La la la la, la la la la La la la la, la la la la La la la la, la la la la La la la la, la la la la La la la la, la la la la La la la la, la la la la La la la la, la la la la La la la la, la la la la
This fence around your garden Won't keep the ice from falling This fence around your garden Won't keep the ice from falling This fence around your garden Won't keep the ice from falling This fence around your garden Won't keep the ice from falling This fence around your garden Won't keep the ice from falling This fence around your garden Won't keep the ice from falling This fence around your garden Won't keep the ice from falling This fence around your garden Won't keep the ice from falling This fence around your garden Won't keep the ice from fallingTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
