There's a full moon over this ancient town
|
A clock faced the colour of the sky
|
And every street that we walk down
|
Belongs to the house, where my father died
|
|
Where prisoners march in luck step with each other
|
Reavers test the limit of their reign
|
Dragging their dead weight from the other
|
While I claim my place, centre stage
|
|
I've been thrown by the thrashing of his going
|
Chained to his unseen stride
|
I've walked in luck step without knowing
|
My indifference, my only disguise
|
|
Now it comes through me like an injection
|
Anonymous pain throbbing reel inside
|
And every pulse in my body
|
Belongs to the house, where my father died
|
|
Won't catch his spirit in a candle
|
On alive finished guttering glow
|
And death comes through these streets like a scandal
|
Bent up and beaten, oh bitter body blow
|
|
And in bars and shaded back rooms
|
Those who can't cope just get high
|
But every place this drink takes me to
|
Belongs to the house, where my father died
|
|
And there's a full moon over this ancient town
|
Head lights numb the banner of the sky
|
Rain rages the steadings and the open ground
|
I'm a child fighting shadows with tears in my eyes
|
|
And the valley cannons and thunder
|
Trees blow beneath the bruising of the sky
|
Like centuries shield the lake from my wonder
|
And I'm as helpless as a child hiding from life
|
|
And the face from my mind is fading
|
I could old wounds for the very first time
|
Tonight there's going to be a reckoning
|
I'm entering the house, where my father die
|
|
-----------------
|
The House
|
Razorlight |