| I bless you madly
|
| Sadly as I tie my shoes
|
| I love you badly
|
| Just in time, at times, I guess
|
| Because of you I need to rest
|
| Because it’s you
|
| That sets the test
|
| So much has gone
|
| And little is new
|
| And as the sparrow sings
|
| Dawn chorus for
|
| Someone else to hear
|
| The Thinker sits alone growing older
|
| And so bitter
|
| «I gave Them life
|
| I gave Them all
|
| They drained my very soul
|
| …dry
|
| I crushed my heart
|
| To ease Their pains
|
| No thought for me remains there
|
| Nothing can They spare
|
| What of me?
|
| Who praised Their efforts
|
| To be free?
|
| Words of strength and care
|
| And sympathy
|
| I opened doors
|
| That would have blocked Their way
|
| I braved Their cause to guide
|
| For little pay
|
| I ravaged at my finance just for Those
|
| Those whose claims were steeped in peace, tranquility
|
| Those who said a new world, new ways ever free
|
| Those whose promises stretched in hope and grace for me
|
| I bless you madly
|
| Sadly as I tie my shoes
|
| I love you badly
|
| Just in time, at times, I guess
|
| Because of you I need to rest
|
| Because it’s you
|
| That sets the test
|
| So much has gone
|
| And little is new
|
| And as the sunrise stream
|
| Flickers on me
|
| My friends talk
|
| Of glory, untold dream, where all is God and God is just a word
|
| «We had a friend, a talking man
|
| Who spoke of many powers that he had
|
| Not of the best of men, but Ours
|
| We used him
|
| We let him use his powers
|
| We let him fill Our needs
|
| Now We are strong
|
| And the road is coming to its end
|
| Now the damned have no time to make amends
|
| No purse of token fortune stands in Our way
|
| The silent guns of love
|
| Will blast the sky
|
| We broke the ruptured structure built of age
|
| Our weapons were the tongues of crying rage
|
| Where money stood
|
| We planted seeds of rebirth
|
| And stabbed the backs of fathers
|
| Sons of dirt
|
| Infiltrated business cesspools
|
| Hating through Our sleeves
|
| Yea, and We slit the Catholic throat
|
| Stoned the poor
|
| On slogans such as
|
| «Wish You Could Hear
|
| Love Is All We Need
|
| Kick Out The Jams
|
| Kick Out Your Mother
|
| Cut Up Your Friend
|
| Screw Up Your Brother or He’ll Get You In the End
|
| And We Know the Flag of Love is from Above
|
| And We Can Force You to Be Free
|
| And We Can Force You to Believe»
|
| And I close my eyes and tighten up my brain
|
| For I once read a book in which the lovers were slain
|
| For they knew not the words of the Free States' refrain
|
| It said:
|
| «I believe in the Power of Good
|
| I Believe in the State of Love
|
| I Will Fight For the Right to be Right
|
| I Will Kill for the Good of the Fight for the Right to be Right»
|
| And I open my eyes to look around
|
| And I see a child laid slain
|
| On the ground
|
| As a love machine lumbers through desolation rows
|
| Ploughing down man, woman, listening to its command
|
| But not hearing anymore
|
| Not hearing anymore
|
| Just the shrieks from the old rich
|
| And I Want to Believe
|
| In the madness that calls 'Now'
|
| And I want to Believe
|
| That a light’s shining through
|
| Somehow
|
| And I Want to Believe
|
| And You Want to Believe
|
| And We Want to Believe
|
| And We Want to Live
|
| Oh, We Want to Live
|
| We Want to Live
|
| We Want to Live
|
| We Want to Live
|
| We Want to Live
|
| I Want to Live
|
| I Want to Live
|
| I Want to Live
|
| I Want to Live
|
| I Want to Live
|
| I Want to Live
|
| Live
|
| Live
|
| Live |