Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Pale Rider, artist - Wind Walkers. Album song The Lost Boys, in the genre Пост-хардкор
Date of issue: 20.06.2018
Record label: Tunecore
Song language: English
Pale Rider |
Not a man, nothing more he only knows what he’s not |
He has a clot in his veins, keeping love from his heart |
His eyes grow colder with each shoulder turned away in disgrace |
His legs are shaking from the wading through the decades of waste |
Searching for meaning in any place that he can |
He’s looking for peace with a gun in his hand |
Searching for meaning in any place that he can |
He’s looking for peace with a gun in his hand |
Swing low burning chariot, pick him up and carry him home |
Burn slow fading chariot, burn slow, burn slow |
He poured his heart into that California sunset once again |
So when the morning comes |
It could rise home in Massachusetts |
But his heart is gone sailing over the Pacific |
I guess he’s wrong, home is never where your heart is, after all |
She’s not a goddess she’s a statue and she’s stuck in one place |
She’s a one woman cult and the mirror’s her faith |
She can’t pass by it without crying, falling down on knees |
She prays to whoever listens to change what she sees |
Swing low, swing low, so I guess he’s wrong, home is never where your heart is |
Burn slow, burn slow, so I guess he’s wrong, home is never where your heart is |
Swing low, swing low, they poured their hearts into the road that they traveled |
on |
Burn slow, burn slow, so I guess he’s wrong, home is never where your heart |
belongs |
Swing low burning chariot, pick him up and carry him home |
Burn slow fading chariot, burn slow, burn slow |
He poured his heart into that California sunset once again |
So when the morning comes |
It could rise home in Massachusetts |
But his heart is gone sailing over the Pacific |
I guess he’s wrong, home is never where your heart is, after all |
His name was death, and hell followed with him |
Walking through fire his feet burned and blistered |
He called for help but no one would listen |
His name was death, and hell followed with him |
Walking through fire his feet burned and blistered |
So he called to his demons and dragged them down with him |
Dragged them down with him |