Down on my knees. I look up at the sky. Here I am again. although I don't know why. . Life is pain. I know this in my heart. I guess it's always been that way from the start.
In the beginning. There was the cold and the night. Prophets and angels gave us the fire and the light. Man was triumphant. Armed with the faith and the will.
I've been livin' for the moment. But I just can't have my way. And I'm afraid to go to sleep. 'cause tomorrow is today. . People tell me life is sweeter.
Hey Lord, take a look all around. And I'd a-find where my baby's gonna be. Hey Lord, would ya look out for her tonight. 'Cause she is far across the sea.
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The cold hands. The sad eyes. The dark irish silence. It's so late. But I'll wait. Through the long night with you. With you. . The warm tears. The bad dreams.
We walked on the beach beside that old hotel. They're tearing it down now. But it's just as well. I haven't shown you everything a man can do. So stay with me baby.
Didn't I say. I wasn't ready for a romance. Didn't we promise. We would only be friends. . And so we danced. Though it was only a slow dance. I started breaking my promises.
In the middle of the night. I go walking in my sleep. From the mountains of faith. To the river so deep. . I must be looking for something. Something sacred I lost.
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Flyin' east on a plane. Drinkin' all that free champagne. I guess I saw this comin' down the line. And I know it should be fun. But I think I should've packed my gun.
Advice is cheap you can take it from me. It's yours to keep 'cause opinions are free. Nobody knows about the trouble I've seen. Nobody's perfect, mister, nobody's clean.
Well I'm on the Downeaster Alexa. And I'm cruisin' through Block Island Sound. I have charted a course to the vineyard. But tonight I am Nantucket bound.
From a town. Known as Wheeling. West Virginia. Note a boy with a .6 gun in his hand. And his daring life of crime. Made him a legend in his time. East and West of the Rio Grande.
It's time for me to be on my way I know. I've got business to conduct. And I've got places to go. But I can't help looking at her sleeping instead. Another morning I'll have trouble climbing out of this bed.
Some people think that she's one of those mink-coated ladies. They say she wakes up at one. And makes the paparazzi run till dawn. She wines and dines with argentines and kuwaitis.
I've thinking of far out places, trying to find a cool oasis,. get away from living in the streets,. where dirty money is the game, the dealer never knows your name,.
Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick and think of you. Caught up in circles, confusion is nothing new, flashback warm nights. Almost left behind suitcase of memories, time after.
Inflammable material's implanted in my head. It's a suspect device that left two thousand dead. . If you said goodbye to me tonight. There would still be music left to write.
I don't want a pickle. Just want to ride on my motorcycle. And I don't want a tickle. 'Cause I'd rather ride on my motorcycle. And I don't want to die.