(Ferry)
|
Here the soil is barren
|
Here - nothing grows
|
But crosses
|
They - know not what they do
|
You - your forgiveness
|
Falls as dew
|
Nailed upon a wooden frame
|
Twisted yet unbroken
|
Open mounted a silent choir
|
Understood, unspoken
|
Never was there heard a sound
|
Until the heavens opened
|
Now the tide is turning
|
To other-wordly yearning
|
Through the sun's eclipse seems final
|
Surely he will rise again
|
|
-----------------
|
Triptych
|
| Roxy Music |
