| Song | I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine |
| Artist | John Doe |
| Album | I'm Not There |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| I dreamed I saw St. Augustine | |
| Alive as you or me | |
| Raging through these quarters | |
| In the utmost misery | |
| With a blanket underneath his arms | |
| And a coat of solid gold | |
| Cryin' for the very ones | |
| That already had been sold | |
| "Arise, arise" he cried so loud | |
| In a voice without restraint | |
| "Come out, you gifted kings and queens | |
| And hear my sad complaint†| |
| ‽No martyrs are among you now | |
| That you can call your own | |
| So go your way accordingly | |
| And know you're not alone" | |
| I dreamed I saw St. Augustine | |
| Alive with fiery breath | |
| I dreamed I was among the ones | |
| That took him out to death | |
| Well, I awoke in anger | |
| So alone and terrified | |
| And I pressed my fingers against the glass | |
| And bowed my head and cried | |
| Yes, I pressed my fingers against the glass | |
| And bowed my head and cried |
| I dreamed I saw St. Augustine | |
| Alive as you or me | |
| Raging through these quarters | |
| In the utmost misery | |
| With a blanket underneath his arms | |
| And a coat of solid gold | |
| Cryin' for the very ones | |
| That already had been sold | |
| " Arise, arise" he cried so loud | |
| In a voice without restraint | |
| " Come out, you gifted kings and queens | |
| And hear my sad complaint | |
| No martyrs are among you now | |
| That you can call your own | |
| So go your way accordingly | |
| And know you' re not alone" | |
| I dreamed I saw St. Augustine | |
| Alive with fiery breath | |
| I dreamed I was among the ones | |
| That took him out to death | |
| Well, I awoke in anger | |
| So alone and terrified | |
| And I pressed my fingers against the glass | |
| And bowed my head and cried | |
| Yes, I pressed my fingers against the glass | |
| And bowed my head and cried |
| I dreamed I saw St. Augustine | |
| Alive as you or me | |
| Raging through these quarters | |
| In the utmost misery | |
| With a blanket underneath his arms | |
| And a coat of solid gold | |
| Cryin' for the very ones | |
| That already had been sold | |
| " Arise, arise" he cried so loud | |
| In a voice without restraint | |
| " Come out, you gifted kings and queens | |
| And hear my sad complaint | |
| No martyrs are among you now | |
| That you can call your own | |
| So go your way accordingly | |
| And know you' re not alone" | |
| I dreamed I saw St. Augustine | |
| Alive with fiery breath | |
| I dreamed I was among the ones | |
| That took him out to death | |
| Well, I awoke in anger | |
| So alone and terrified | |
| And I pressed my fingers against the glass | |
| And bowed my head and cried | |
| Yes, I pressed my fingers against the glass | |
| And bowed my head and cried |