to cool and rub her down Ruby, I'm tired, try and get some sleep I'm adding doctor's fees to remedies With the cost of three day's work lost I try and
In the dark night a giant slumbered Untouched for centuries 'Til awakened by a white man's cry "This is the Eden I was to find" There were lands to be
even when I know I'm wrong? Take this to your heart and into your head now Before you waste your time, call a truce and call a draw What's the use in
's more He's God's mad disciple, a righteous title for the Word he heard He so misunderstood though simple minded a crippled man To know this man is
Mercy, mercy, why didn't we hear it? Mercy, mercy, why did we read it Buried on the last page of our morning papers? The plan was drafted, drafted in
Tell me what's gone wrong? I tilt my head there, under the faucet when I turn it on Dry as paper, call the neighbors Who's to blame for what's going on
at what I see A beast in furs and crowned in luxury He's a wealthy man in the poorest land, a self-appointed king And there's no complaining while he's
sorrows carried long and carried far Taken to the wall It's 40 paces to the year that he was slain His hand's slipping down the wall for it's slick
making you sane again to Let another man tug at the thread That pulls up your nodding head? A dullard strung on the wire When the master's gone you
: "Mercy, mercy," why didn't we hear it? "Mercy, mercy," why did we read it buried on the last page of our morning papers? The plan was drafted, drafted
when my back is sturdy and strong? Trouble me. Speak to me, don't mislead me, the calm I feel means a storm is swelling; there's no telling where
long and carried far, taken to The Wall. It's 40 paces to the year that he was slain. His hand's slipping down The Wall for it's slick with rain.
cool and rub her down. Ruby, I'm tired, try and get some sleep. I'm adding doctor's fees to remedies with the cost of three day's work lost. I try
what I see: a beast in furs and crowned in luxury. He's a wealthy man in the poorest land, a self-appointed king, and there's no complaining while he's
making you sane again to let another man tug at the thread that pulls up your nodding head? A dullard strung on the wire. When the master's gone you
: In the dark night a giant slumbered untouched for centuries 'til awakened by a white man's cry: "This is the Eden I was to find." There were lands
what's gone wrong. I tilt my head there, under the faucet, but when I turn it on -- dry as paper. Call the neighbors. Who's to blame for what's going
s more. He's God's mad disciple, a righteous title, for the Word he heard he so misunderstood. Though simple minded, a crippled man, to know this man
