(Wright, Moore)
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I'm ill with a fever, I feel like a child
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I lay in the dark 'til morning came.
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And it's so unoriginal
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But I feel it worse at night
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And I know it's not terminal
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But I'm near half dead with fright
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And freezing cold.
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But sooner than wake up
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To find it all unchanged
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I'll sleep through the day till the daylight ends.
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'Cos it's so familiar
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As it comes around again
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The same taste to everything
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The same unbroken chain
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That still remains.
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With morning I rise,
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In dream that won't leave me,
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You're sad, naked and pale
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And you're reaching for the rail
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You took a look inside, how could you peel away
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Or braek the shell, the hurt you've hidden so well
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For all your days.
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And you're going down
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As you slip beneath the waves,
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Won't make a sound
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Won't even leave a trace before you.
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I hear an appalling sigh from the street below
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And it's creeping fear congealed in stone
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That paves the crazy road.
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And all are succumbing and they look so hopelessly
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At the heartbreak, it's easy to deal with,
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Just take these and you'll really never feel it.
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Reaching For The Rail
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| Sinead O'Connor |
