Sir Francis Bacon At The Net Lyrics - Renmin Park - Cowboy Junkies

Merciless nature, human and mother walk this land 

Each through the arm of the other 

Their tithe they count in millions 

In a Land that loves its villains 

So calculating it parses a man 

Between the hand that held the dream 

And the sword being held by the hand 

Their golden frames hang gleaming 

Tangled bones of their crimes bleaching 

Their golden frames hang gleaming 

Bleaching bones of their crimes tangling 

There he stands a mere mist of a thing 

Waiting his turn to challenge the King 

He counts his time in centuries 

He lives on the smallest of mercies 

He counts his time in centuries 

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As the map is unrolled the dagger comes out 

And that which was certain will now end in doubt 

Thank you Sir Francis Bacon 

Another piece of advice not taken 

Thank you Sir Francis Bacon 

Another piece of advice not taken 

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