sabato, febbraio 19, 2005

Season of the hurricane, dig deep you redwood trees.
Watch while our year draws to a close.
Sing for us you cloistered men, a cold cathedral hymn.
Wipe from our feet the city street,
turn our city lights down dim.
Maybe we’re just trying to hide away.
Maybe we’ll just put it in a box.
Maybe we’ll remember just how it’s meant to be.
When it was you and me always forever.
Keepers of the gate, watchers on the wall,
waiting for the rain to fall.
I came here unsuspecting of the land that lay in wait.
I came here with wild dogs at my heels.
Took the trail to the mountain top, saw the solitary star.
I knew I could be silent here,
No poison cloud, no sidewalk crowd, no jagged, burnt out car.
I fear the world gonna sink.
Light become relentless, rivers stink.
And only those with dollars get to drink.