Bones
You awoke in the morning and said,
What will happen to me when I'm dead,
Will a million old bugs eat my bones?
Or will I be returned to my home?
If I knew that then I would be rich,
I'd predict every death to the inch,
When the gunfire and smoke light the sky,
I could tell you exactly who'll die
But he's just another, face in the crowd,
If you sleep through the morning, he won't come around,
He's just another, face in the crowd,
Oh the bones in the graveyard, are moving around.
Both the master and lover are sewn,
Immortal souls and they're never alone,
Black cat's luck and the book never seen,
Just a rose where the bodies have been.
We can have all the luck in the world,
One day our lives will surely unfurl,
No long pause 'fore the verdict is read,
We'll just know in our hearts that we're dead.
But he's just another, face in the crowd,
If you sleep through the morning, he won't come around,
He's just another, face in the crowd,
Oh the bones in the graveyard, are moving around.
Drowning Doll
I'm glad the drowning doll was saved,
Yes survived, but left so frail,
It's never wished for a tighter hold,
Plums were placed to make a trail.
The taste of salt will follow us,
I hold too tight it's true,
I'll acclimatise to your place,
Be calm, push ribs to you.
I'm not furious. You're delightful.
Times have changed for me.
Your voice stayed strong.
I've been running for years.
You told me which fruit I'd see.
I'm not furious. You're delightful.
Disrupt me with a dimmer switch,
That's what I should've held my tongue for.
I was only in detention then,
For saying things that I saw.
I was punished for my running eyes,
Told to do as I'm told,
You kept me safe, a little younger,
I'm petrified of growing old.
I'm not furious. You're delightful.
Times have changed for me.
Your voice stayed strong.
I've been running for years.
You told me which fruit I'd see.
I'm not furious. You're delightful.
Santiago
I'm sure,
I'm sure of it now,
The key lies in the Sierra Maestra
I'm sure,
I'm sure of it now,
Santiago and Castro in La Granma
I see,
I see it now,
History repeats the fact of the matter.
I see,
I see it now,
With inspiration from the lepers in San Pablo.
A man looks down over Havana,
As a light shines over Espana.
I stop,
I stop it now,
The power eating the wings of the people.
I hold,
I hold it now,
The new world in my heart like a burden,
I mix,
I mix it now,
The compound of blood and rust on the carpet
I'm sure,
I'm sure of it now,
Santiago and Castro in La Granma.
A man looks down over Havana,
As a light shines over Espana.
Come Out of the Blue
My life I love you, but you're letting me down,
I used to claw at the doorway now i claw at the ground.
Come out of the blue, and I will glue my arms around you.
Come out of the blue, and I will hush the morning gulls for you.
In your mouth you let my worries all melt,
You knitted your hands around my torso, darling I felt....
(Warmer than I've ever felt)
Come out of the blue, and I will glue my arms around you.
Come out of the blue, and I will hush the morning gulls for you.
You let my worries melt in your mouth and now I'm never turning back,
This fluid love from by the stones and gulls is glued to my back.
Come out of the blue, and I will glue my arms around you.
Come out of the blue, and I will hush the morning gulls for you.
Eyes
Platform signs sit swinging in the station,
Old men sit in their seats,
Burning sun bearing down on the people with hair all wet from the heat.
Speeding past the bodies out the window, men straighten their ties.
All the seats of motion-sick children put fear into adult eyes.
It's a long long way to drive, before these people find a way in which to keep the truth alive.
They won't sleep 'til, they know, their aching feet are home.
Grinding wheels hit friction with the steel,
The carriage groans with the weight,
Of people dying to get up from their tables and run head-first through the gate.
Past the cabs and half-expectant buses, mothers smoking inside,
The cars that take them home until another solitary weekday ride.
It's a long long way to drive, before these people find a way in which to keep the truth alive.
They won't sleep 'til, they know, their aching feet are home.
