See the storm is broken
In the middle of the night
Nothing left here for me
It's washed away
The rain pushes
The buildings aside
The sky turns black
The sky
Wash it far
Push it out to sea
There's nothing left here
For me
I watch it lift up to the sky
I watch it crush me
And then i die
Speak to me baby
In the middle of the night
Pull your mouth
Close to mine
I can see the wind coming down
Like black night
So speak to me
Like the winds outside
It's broken up, pushing us
Hear the rain fall
See the wind come to my eyes
See the storm broken
Now nothing
Speak to me baby
In the middle of the night
Speak to me
Hold your mouth to mine
'Cause the sky is breaking
It's deeper than love
I know the way you feel
Like the rains outside
Speak to me
In a garden in the house of love, sitting lonely on a plastic chair
The sun is cruel when he hides away, I need a sister - I'll just stay
A little girl, a little guy - in a little church or in a school
Little Jesus are you watching me, I'm so young - just eighteen
She, she, she, she Shine On
Shine On
Shine On
In a garden in a house of love, there's nothing real just a coat of arms
I'm not the pleasure that I used to be - so young - just eighteen
She, she, she, she Shine On
Shine On
Shine On
I don't know why I dream this way
The sky is purple and things are right every day
I don't know, it's just this world's so far away
But I won't fight, and I won't hate
Well not today
In a garden in the house of love
Sitting lonely on a plastic chair
The sun is cruel when he hides away
Shine On...
Shine On
Shine On
....and on...and on...
Shine
Shine On
Shine
Shine
Shine
I still dream of algernon.
I wake up crying.
Youre making rain,
And youre just in reach,
When you and sleep escape me.
Youre like my yo-yo
That glowed in the dark.
What made it special
Made it dangerous,
So I bury it
And forget.
But every time it rains,
Youre here in my head,
Like the sun coming out--
Ooh, I just know that something good is going to happen.
And I dont know when,
But just saying it could even make it happen.
On top of the world,
Looking over the edge,
You could see them coming.
You looked too small
In their big, black car,
To be a threat to the men in power.
I hid my yo-yo
In the garden.
I cant hide you
From the government.
Oh, god, daddy--
I wont forget,
cause every time it rains,
Youre here in my head,
Like the sun coming out--
Ooh, I just know that something good is going to happen.
And I dont know when,
But just saying it could even make it happen.
Woke up this morning, was a chill in the air
Went into the kitchen, your cigarettes were lying there
Your jacket hung on the chair where you left it last night
Everything was in place, everything seemed all right
But you were missing
Missing...
Last night I dreamed the sky went black
You were drifting down and you couldn't get back
You were lost and in trouble so far from home
I reached for you, my arms were like stone
I woke and you were missing
Missing...
I searched for something to explain
In the whispering rain, and the trembling leaves
Tell me baby where did you go
You were here just a moment ago
There's nights I still hear your footsteps fall
I can hear your voice moving down the hall
Your smell drifts through the bedroom
I lie awake, but I don't move
Doors, The
An American Prayer (1978-)
Dawn's Highway
Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young child's fragile eggshell mind.
Me and my -ah- mother and father - and a
grandmother and a grandfather - were driving through
the desert, at dawn, and a truck load of Indian
workers had either hit another car, or just - I don't
know what happened - but there were Indians scattered
all over the highway, bleeding to death.
So the car pulls up and stops. That was the first time
I tasted fear. I musta' been about four - like a child is
like a flower, his head is just floating in the
breeze, man.
The reaction I get now thinking about it, looking
back - is that the souls of the ghosts of those dead
Indians...maybe one or two of 'em...were just
running around freaking out, and just leaped into my
soul. And they're still in there.
Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young child's fragile eggshell mind.
Blood in the streets in the town of New Haven
Blood stains the roofs and the palm trees of Venice
Blood in my love in the terrible summer
Bloody red sun of Phantastic L.A.
Blood screams her brain as they chop off her fingers
Blood will be born in the birth if a nation
Blood is the rose of mysterious union
Blood on the rise, it's following me.
Indian, Indian what did you die for?
Indian says, nothing at all.
p.s. Jim ovde prica vise nego sto sam stavila teksta, ali neka
)
