作词 : Oscar Jerome Laurence/Brother Portrait

作曲 : Oscar Jerome Laurence/Brother Portrait

In search of streets of gold

The road may lead to Feneos

Where the river begin but the journey doesn't end, no

Winding through a valley

You may reach a sulphurous swamp

Place a coin in the mouth of your loved one

So they can be ferried across

Shield their eyes to the damned that eternally choke

These muddy waters replace the dirty words that they spoke

You may ask yourself how did I end up around these ways

And the wind replies "My friend, you were at the right time in the wrong place"

(Your saint only cares for money)

(Don't you touch his sense of pride)

Your saint only cares for money

Your saint only cares for money

Don't you touch his sense of pride

Your saint only cares for money

Your saint only cares for money

Don't you touch his sense of pride

Parris' arrow is hot on your heels

A scholar caught in the rain

Unnoticed, unnamed

Your saint only cares for money

Don't you touch his sense of pride

Shoulder to shoulder, most faces face back

The only warm air was breath through a whispered prayer

Left in the name of God, of family, of land

Arrive and cry thanks into trembling hands

How could I survive ain't even a question of life

My passage had no ticket just a price

The debt makes my cheek run rivers

Turns sleep to a threat

I dream faces I will never touch again

Each body across water, a spirit still tethered to a place

That meant purpose was being

That sang sweet I ams

Still tethered now straining my face

Pulled into shapes of mourning

Now home is a burial ground

Testing faith and grace

All fearful, appalling

Same time panic and dash, same time still chase

All missed calls and calling

A right time, never

This time forever

Bones calling out "will you bury us here?"

Really?

Heart still burning, black core, red fire

All for love

How come they scared can't see

The purpose, the power, my sacrifice, the beauty in me

Why they grimace and spit, play fickle with life

Turn hope into a hell for me

Your saint only cares for money

Your saint only cares for money

Don't you touch his sense of pride

Your saint only cares for money

Your saint only cares for money

Don't you touch his sense of pride

Parris' arrow is hot on your heels

A scholar caught in the rain

Unnoticed, unnamed

Your saint only cares for money

Don't you touch his sense of pride

Don't you touch his sense of pride