|
TRACK THREE
|
(Scott Walker)
|
|
Delayed in the headlong
|
Resembled to breaking-point
|
I swear you never slept at night
|
when the growing is slow.
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After me I'm no man's son
|
run out of recognize.
|
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The blood of our
|
split back without his prisoner
|
the distance rigged in his eyes
|
|
Rock of cast-offs
|
bury me
|
hide my soul
|
and sink us free.
|
|
Rock of cast offs
|
bury me
|
hide my soul
|
and pray us free.
|
|
From the host of late-comers
|
a miracle enters the streets
|
shining with rain
|
he is shaking to wash
|
the murder away.
|
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The shadow of the son
|
made the son a shadow
|
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it's never night when I die.
|
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That desert clouds under
|
and so Lord lightens
|
sleepers wait there
|
with wounds in their sides.
|
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In the strength of the crime
|
you sing like a stranger
|
and your failure fulfills
|
your most secret defeat.
|
|
After me I'm no man's son
|
run out of recognize.
|
|
A life of it's own
|
lays down the horizon
|
the distance rigged in it's eyes
|
|
Rock of cast-offs
|
bury me
|
hide my soul
|
and sink us free.
|
|
Rock of cast offs
|
bury me
|
hide my soul
|
and pray us free.
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
TRACK THREE
|
| Scott Walker |
