Dawn Is Breaking

Remember looking at the haunted race
Bowed down to the storm?
Remember searching for a familiar face
With no one there to mourn?

Staring eyes, silent screens
Plastic tubes to carry fading dreams
Preacher, servant in the hall
Warm blood on the palace wall

Those who dine alone in hell
Wearing grief in their lapel
Drop small change in wishing well
The haunted tears that never fell

Someone's dragging a ball and chain
Looking for you in the pouring rain
While those who care give silent prayer
For lovers going home

If there was a brickwork surrounding the New York dream
If there were secrets locked in steel
If there was a button you could press on the luck machine
If there was a place for wounds to heal

If you were born in the barbwire of your mother's womb
If you were hungry before you died
If you say you left your bath all clean and white
You know, I know you lied

Remember the poet who said it first
He was speaking of you and your difficult birth
How you care and say a prayer
For lovers going home

Drinking from an empty cup
Waiting for a rock to grow
Distant sounds that can't be heard
And no one knows

Children who don't mind the rain
Yet have no wish to die
Whatever you are, were or could've been
You'd feel better if you could cry

Dawn is breaking in the graveyard

People massing in the street
Trampled heads beneath their feet
Children playing with the dead
Silver spoon stained with red

Watching through a widow's veil
As Caesar desecrates the Holy Grail
You sit all alone in your front-row seat
You look so small and frail

You're mud on the feet of the men you've damned
You're darkness come too soon
You should be selling two-bit watches and girly photographs
Masterpiece in ruin

You're a pantomime of old world courtesy
You should have a degree for harlotry
You should be incarcerated in an apartment tower
With no technology

Did you ever listen to the poll opposed to you
Did you ever stop to ask?
Did you ever smile or hide your wasted face?
Did you ever lift your mask?

Did you ever walk with your feet on fire
'Til they take your place in line?
Did you know you look like you belong
Where wrong is right and right is wrong?

Did you really think that you'd be left
When war is life and life is death?



Credits
Writer(s): Bernard Patrick Neeson, Richard Brewster-jones, John Brewster
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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