She was so afraid of everything she said
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Since her mother told her why once upon a time
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There was no rhyme
|
Before the clock slammed another door
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Of the weary hours we were facing a second hand shylock
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Shylocked in, in on us
|
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I saw what it had taken
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Playing back that old brigade of mine
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Everything was dirty, everything was without rhyme
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Everything was dirty, everything was without rhyme
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Cause me and nigger marched
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Yes, me and nigger blasted our way out
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Of here just like yesterday
|
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Yesterday's streets were burnt down into shells
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Mothers weep while children sleep
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Like ancestors in the ground
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The misery of nuns lie together like sons
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Who do not have the taste for the battle
|
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We are shuffled like a pack of cards in the dead of night
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Like lovers below Bataan, below the senses
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Cause the senses smell of tears
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While we and nigger marched
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Blasted our way out of here
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Close the door and let's have some private life
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|
-----------------
|
Wilson Joliet
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| John Cale |
