AWA

Montagnes russes

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  • 2016.12.09
  • 3:00
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Among the headstones you played as boys Crypts and tombs like a roomful of toys Just up the river from the smoke and the noise Gethsemane And there's war-whoops and secret signs in the trees Estuary smells coming up on the breeze O perfect endless days like these O Gethsemane Sailboat on the Cadie, pushbike on the quay In your eyes there's fire, in your hand destiny ‘O be something, be something fine!' Just down the river, into the noise and the smoke Being daring with the staring, uncaring folk Who laugh with you, laugh at you, you'll never get the joke Gethsemane And they broke your spirit there in the marines Flushed your head down in the latrines Frozen in your sacrement, derailed in your teens Never saw the enemy And those bosses betrayed, soon let you go The fire in your eyes, how could they know ‘O be something, be something fine!' Now you've got your own boys, hell bent for leather Dead before they're 18, or bitter old men forever They never saw the halo moon rise over the river Of Gethsemane Now there's a pain in your head puts lead in your shoes Better get it seen to, it's going to be bad news How did the perfect world get so confused O Gethsemane Who sucked out the freedom, days without end Under the weight of it all you must bend ‘O be something, be something fine!'

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