You're playing games and messing up my life. . making everything go wrong.. How much of this do you think I can take ?. I'll have to change before too long..
Movin away for the summer. Doin what I meant to do. Cant take you with me my lover,. But it wont be the same without you. I know you dont feel the same as me.
You keep coming around knocking at the door. . But now I just won't answer. I've heard it all before.. All you did was keep me within your web of lies.
In 1965 Vietnam seemed like just another foreign war but it wasn't. It was different in many ways, as so were those that did the fighting. In World War II the average age of the combat soldier was 26.
Walk tall beneath these trees, boy. You monolith, not scarred by fallout. Us wolves were right behind you. And Lucifer will never find you, oh no. . The moon, let it guide you.
Wind in the wires. Electricity, on the edge of a cliff. Moments of transcendence. Sweet and transitory. . But here comes a rage. A crippling anger. Sea birds are blown into the rocks.
And I showed you my ugly heart. Yet you did not surrender. Love me back to life. Through my self destruction, December. . All paranoia's to trust. I turned my bodies functions, I remembered.
I am the tragedy. And the heroine. I am lost And I am rescuing. . The storm is come. And I am following. . My name is Tristan. And I am alive. . Forever young.
Alone again in Paris. Travel drained I write to you. You've been on my mind. Cold days, long nights. . A rooftop in Berlin I call. Confess the state I'm in.
The day our house collapsed,. I went down stream.. I followed the swans,. like i follow my dreams.. Oh! I was living on borrowed time,. in a borrowed house for a borrowed crime..
From the east to the south. I tongue the roof of my mouth. To new days of doubt without you. First gear. . I face the trouble ahead. Final word's been said.
The storm blows around. This harbour town. I listen to its wind as a choir. The shipping forecast. Is crackling. Like wet wood upon a fire. . And time slows and slips away.
What lies beneath the door? What keeps you? Explore. Do you take the chance to defeat the source?. The gates are opening. The choice, the future, the future, the future is yours.
Its a wild stretch of land. Such a sad place to be. When the night comes heavy down. And the sands turn to sea. . Many saints have lost their love. Many a pilgrim dies unseen.
Too many rocks. Not enough breeze. To sail on out. Of your shadowseas. . Too many sails. Not enough breeze. Of your shadowseas. . To sail on out. Of your shadowseas.
There's a house. By the rails that I know. In a valley of its own. . With trains and bones. And birds in the yard. Where the wild nettles grow. . Growing over the door.
The motorway won't take a horse. The wanderer has found a course to follow. The traveler unpacked his bags for the last time. The troubadour cut off his hand and now he wants mine.
Drawing a line. A ship in a harbour. Yes I will go. Ill be going there soon. . A blue map of Cornwall. Up on a bedroom wall. Drawing a line. Ill be following soon.
Summer in San Francisco. Kissing chlorine in the swimming pool. Out of fuel at the Phoenix motel. I slept alone again that night. And sweet dreams of Mother Ireland.
Looking up, up, up for love finally. . Hey, hey. Fire, fire. . Down in the foundry. We forge for us the changing bell. Turn your back against the winds.