Lyrics Pricked In The Heart - The Fiery Furnaces

Pricked In The Heart - The Fiery Furnaces
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Pricked In The Heart, artist - The Fiery Furnaces. Album song Widow City, in the genre Альтернатива
Date of issue: 08.10.2007
Record label: Thrill Jockey
Song language: English

Pricked In The Heart

Listen, these are not drunken as you suppose
It might not be 3 o’clock in the morning like it seems
The little children will be prescient
And your young men will see shows
And your old men will dream dreams
I found a typescript double-spaced
Printed out on a daisy-wheel (so all femme)
In the former Treatise (dear friend Theophilus) it was placed
Written by Lisa which was present at the doings of them
I gathered all the tokens of her passion, people
Waiting for the promise of her father («Whereof you heard of me») in the past
John baptized with water;
now, with wine
But don’t weep, he’ll make sure
Pricked in the heart the Wednesday after last
In a cash and carry next to Mt. Olivet (and all around)
Megan, Mary, Lisa, and Kenisha gave it out, «Stick with me.»
Or you’ll reap the reward of iniquity
Cashed out and carried to possession of a plot of ground
Well, the vapor of smoke came up from the earth beneath
Outside the bodega called Beautiful.
When it was whom
With Su and Kenisha, under a silver-leaf wreath
Called not fit to sit: might as well have come halt out your mother’s womb
I gathered all the tokens of her passion, people
Waiting for the promise of her father («Whereof you heard of me») in the past
John baptized with water;
now, with wine
But don’t weep, he’ll make sure
Pricked in the heart the Wednesday after last
A light shined in the lodge and the chains slipped off her hands
So to speak: she packed up her things and she sailed to Cyprus
Sending greetings from Felix with a please to put Paul on
Misunderstands
Me, she, and her all went home (gave up the boast) and left Lisa to type us
I gathered all the tokens of her passion, people
Waiting for the promise of her father («Whereof you heard of me») in the past
John baptized with water;
now, with wine
But don’t weep, he’ll make sure
Pricked in the heart the Wednesday after last

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Artist lyrics: The Fiery Furnaces