| I want to ride the river but the river is dry, too dry
|
| We tried to climb a mountain but we got too high, too high
|
| Like foam from the lip of a rabid dog
|
| We cling to a promise with lungs full of smog
|
| I want to ride the river, but the river is dry, too dry
|
| Oh, my sweet Lord
|
| This could be a paradise
|
| This could be a paradise
|
| But we’re skin and bone
|
| Our teeth are all gone
|
| Oh, this could be a paradise
|
| I want to ride the river but the river is dry, too dry
|
| We tried to climb a mountain but it got too high, too high
|
| How low can you go when you’re held by the spell?
|
| Dig a little deeper for a new kind of hell
|
| Dig a little deeper for a new kind of hell
|
| Oh, my sweet lord
|
| You don’t call to say you love me anymore
|
| This could be a paradise
|
| This could be a paradise
|
| But we’re skin and bone
|
| Our teeth are all gone
|
| Oh, this could be a paradise
|
| This could be a paradise
|
| But we’re skin and bone
|
| Our teeth are all gone
|
| Oh, this could be a paradise
|
| It was heaven knowing you
|
| It was heaven knowing you
|
| It was heaven knowing you
|
| It was heaven knowing you, yeah
|
| This could be a paradise, yeah
|
| This could be a paradise
|
| But we’re skin and bone
|
| Our teeth are all gone
|
| Oh, this could be a paradise |