| We walk alone now, Edo
|
| The dogs have broken and turned
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| Feed these words to the wind
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| So they may one day return
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| There’s little left for us, Edo
|
| Our minds are open and learned
|
| Never in your days will you find a pair so burned
|
| And we slept with our backs against the weather
|
| As we lay on wet stones
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| Before the fire’s edge
|
| We swore to never eat from those bleeding hands again
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| And we sang the words together in the amber
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| Not a word, little widow, of the man I was before
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| For the only friend that’s left is in the night
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| When I cannot find the silver designed to take your life
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| And the shadows are too deep to find the light
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| They do not reach the small bones of courage
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| 'Stead left to the light by the small bones of courage
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| There is a train that moves through the valley
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| Its path is crooked and tied
|
| We’re told we are but travellers upon its hellish ride
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| But the coal will not burn longer than we will it
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| Still he’s robbed of fire by the small bones of courage
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| Scratch down the lace and bare your naked breast unto the sun
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| Let the ghosts scream at the lightning in your eyes
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| Turn all the horses gold, and watch them flee toward the life
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| Where live the guardians of mercy on the mind
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| Led through the fire by the small bones of courage
|
| Led through the fire by the small bones of courage
|
| There is little left for us, Edo
|
| Our minds are open and learned
|
| Never in your days will you find a pair so burned
|
| And we slept with our backs against the weather |