| We are the game pieces
|
| We see what comes to pass
|
| You can bury us in your earth
|
| Or plate us behind glass
|
| You think we’re in the hands
|
| Of the frightened or the clever
|
| But the game pieces know
|
| And the game goes on forever
|
| It came about one night, mist was on the water
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| Everything was still, still for miles around
|
| Darkness won her day but other eyes were watching
|
| Into the Lewis night from the water crawled a man
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| All hands were lost as the vessel took on water
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| Panic shook the decks leaving no-one in command
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| He’d seen a velvet bag floating in the moonlight
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| He lay alive and thankful that he had it in his hand
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| Cutting of a knife, last words stifled
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| The killer took his money and rifled through his clothes
|
| Then he found the bag with the many staring faces
|
| Holding up a figure now he swallowed hard and froze
|
| We are the game pieces
|
| We see what comes to pass
|
| You can bury us m your earth
|
| Or plate us behind glass
|
| You think we’re in the hands
|
| Of the frightened or the clever
|
| But the game pieces know
|
| And the game goes on forever
|
| They caught up with a man many years later
|
| Blood still on has hands, thunder in his eye
|
| They bound him up in chains, pointed to the gallows
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| He told the strangest tale on the day he was to die
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| Told them of a sailor whose life he had taken
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| Told them of the bag he’d committed to the clay
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| Told them of the strange gods' black eyes shining
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| They shivered then they said, in the ground is where they stay
|
| We are the game pieces
|
| We see what comes to pass
|
| You can bury us in your earth
|
| Or place us behind glass
|
| You think we’re in the hands
|
| Of the frightened or the clever
|
| But the game pieces know
|
| And the game goes on forever
|
| Now digging on the land a crofter found a jacket
|
| Muddy torn and faded, just a purple hue
|
| Came across the pieces scattered in their chamber
|
| Like finding gold to the man without a shoe
|
| Valued as a lot the hammer moves them on and on
|
| Sold to a name, they stand and they wait
|
| Silent air around, none to touch them
|
| A law unto themselves only moved by hands of fate
|
| We are the game pieces
|
| We see what comes to pass
|
| You can bury us in your earth
|
| Or place us behind glass
|
| You think we’re in the hands
|
| Of the frightened or the clever
|
| But the game pieces know
|
| And the game goes on forever |