|
A deep frustration's running through my veins, |
|
A dark light's entering the church |
|
By pale glass windows |
|
And I feel so cold. |
|
I can't stop looking at the wooden box placed |
|
In the very centre of the nave. |
|
I'm trying to imagine you... ... |
|
Sleeping. |
|
We're in the home |
|
Of life and death, |
|
Where each being takes end. |
|
And time flows with the sand! |
|
We cry as one, |
|
Your friends, your family. |
|
Death has stained this day. |
|
And now he's gone away. |
|
I think you would be smiling |
|
Listening to this priest today |
|
Before his church. |
|
I can still remember |
|
Your songs about |
|
Christendom and slavery. |
|
I can't realise! |
|
Death before my eyes! |
|
Listening to this sermon's lies! |
|
He's never seen you! |
|
He's never talked to you! |
|
How can his white lies be true? |
|
But I have to understand, |
|
This prayer that pays tribute too |
|
It's not here to be true, but to help us go through |
|
The deep pain that we bear, the way we all suffer. |
|
Our dreams of paradise get the pain out of our minds. |
