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Well, the river came to me, and it washed us all away. |
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Someone is chasing me and noted where I used to stay. |
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And I feel as I've been here many times before. |
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As I kneel and I pick up the pieces on the floor. |
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And you ask me in a voice, that is quiet, that is strong: |
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"Tell me of a place where the living don't belong." |
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I remember falling to the other side. |
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I remember leaving my body behind. |
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But the river pulled me away, |
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Before I got a chance to say what I say. |
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And under the jacket I did lay. |
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And the Christmas lights, they come from nowhere. |
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I had visions often of rivers, |
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No, I didn't know their names. |
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I had visions, notwithstanding in the heart of it all. |
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And you ask me to tell you: |
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"Oh, what people might we become?" |
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Tell me of the dying we have done. |
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But the river pulled me away, |
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Before I got a chance to say what I say. |
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And under the jacket I did lay. |
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And the Christmas lights, they came from nowhere. |
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Oh, and under the river I stay. |
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I won't get the chance to say what I say. |
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Under the jacket, I will lay. |
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And the Christmas lights, they come from nowhere. |
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And the Christmas lights, they come from nowhere. |
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And the Christmas lights, they come from nowhere. |
