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Feet hit the ground; feet leaving town |
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Quicker than a bullet or a knife |
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Falling ain't no fun when you're on the run |
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Honey we was runnin' for our life |
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When stagger lee had drunk his fill of moonlight |
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He turned his burnin' eyes upon my soul |
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"it's time, by god, to spend this night with someone else", he said. |
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"squeeze a little pleasure from the gold" (love & glory, children) |
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We can take it easy when we're old. |
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He said, "we'll take us into town, lay our money down |
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I'll bring you to the sweetest thing that grows |
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Because the fairest ones in sight are bloomin' every night at a tavern |
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Called the sabre and the rose." |
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We swang into the saddle slick as breathing |
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And slapped 'em once for pleasure with the reins |
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The horses snorted frosty in the moonlight |
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Somethin' dark was singing in my veins |
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Older than the voices in my brain. |
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He said, "this place you're gonna see is where they live and breathe |
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And sink down a little bit deeper every day |
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And sometimes at night, when the wind is runnin' right, |
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You can hear it suckin' thirty miles away" |
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Then the light was crimson and i found her, |
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All naked and eternal and insane |
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Sacred as the mysteries around her like a veil |
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Nothin' but her prison was profane |
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All we had in common was our chains. |
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Ah-burn it down boys |
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Burn it to the ground, boys |
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Burn it on down |
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Feet hit the ground; feet leaving town |
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Quicker than a bullet or a knife |
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All the way she ran holdin' to my hand |
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Runnin' for the river and our life |
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Slidin' from the moonlight into shadows |
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Silent as the river as it flows |
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Swimmin' to the place they'll never find us |
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All we left behind us was our clothes |
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And the stories, children. |
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Sing about the sabre and the rose |
