Music & Lyrics Fred Dawson
|
|
Here and Gone
My conscience is a drunk judge stumblin’ through the city.
Sometimes I’m king rat, sometimes I’m a pity.
There’s always something wrong.
I got nothin’ to lose if he’s only half right.
In this house of blues it’s a losin’ fight;
you’re here and then you’re gone.
There’s been a million seekers out on the glory road,
the chosen and the broken, the reapers and the sowed.
They ain’t found nothin’ yet.
There’s a lynch mob on a rampage chasin’ devils on the loose.
They’ll all be dead by daybreak; there’s a neck for every noose.
You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.
That clangin’ in the night can’t be the bells of hell.
It’s just a fresh wind blowin’ through an empty cell.
There’s got to be some goodness we all can trust
somewhere in this pile of diamonds and dust.
There’s always something wrong.
We’re all blind men on a highway lookin’ for a clue.
If someone walked on water it had better be you.
You’re here and then you’re gone.
That clangin’ in the night can’t be the bells of hell.
It’s just a fresh wind blowin’ through an empty cell.
My conscience is a drunk judge stumblin’ through the city.
Sometimes I’m king rat; sometimes I’m a pity.
There’s always something wrong.
We’re all blind men on a highway lookin’ for a clue.
If someone walked on water it had better be you.
You’re here and then you’re gone.
x |
|
 |
|