| looking down on empty streets, all she can see |
are the dreams all made solid |
are the dreams all made real |
|
she pictures the broken glass, she pictures the steam |
were once just a dream
|
in somebody's head |
|
she pictures the broken glass, she pictures the steam |
she pictures a soul |
with no leak at the seam
|
|
let's take the boat out
|
wait until darkness |
let's take the boat out
|
wait until darkness comes
|
|
nowhere in the corridors of pale green and grey |
nowhere in the suburbs
|
in the cold light of day
|
|
there in the midst of it so alive and alone |
words support like bone
|
|
dreaming of mercy street
|
wear your inside out |
dreaming of mercy |
in your daddy's arms again |
dreaming of mercy street
|
swear they moved that sign |
dreaming of mercy |
in your daddy's arms
|
|
pulling out the papers from the drawers that slide smooth |
tugging at the darkness, word upon word |
|
confessing all the secret things in the warm velvet box |
to the priest-he's the doctor |
he can handle the shocks
|
|
dreaming of the tenderness-the tremble in the hips |
of kissing Mary's lips
|
|
dreaming of mercy street
|
wear your insides out
|
dreaming of mercy |
in your daddy's arms again |
dreaming of mercy street
|
swear they moved that sign |
looking for mercy |
in your daddy's arms |
|
mercy, mercy, looking for mercy |
mercy, mercy, looking for mercy |
|
Anne, with her father is out in the boat |
riding the water |
riding the waves on the sea |
[Voltar]
|