Share This Wine
From this chair I see the sun
Bathe me in shadows of Commission flats.
Though the cold does touch my arm,
I turn to face the fire on telly.
A generation with our hands in blood,
Like all the generations gone before,
And though we thought we learnt our lessons,
It seems we learnt them too well.
So darling share this wine with me.
We'll be together on the eve of World War III
And will the children that have grown so high
In the back of our minds - slip through our fingers like oil.
I think I must have seen a thousand films
Where all the boys come back from Vietnam
And when they said they'd purged their conscience,
For a second I thought they meant it.
So in the congress hear them plead
And try and carve their words in history
Though we all fear the loss of life,
Our leaders fear the rise in global petrol prices.
So darling share this wine with me.
We'll be together on the eve of World War III
And will the children that have grown so high
In the back of our minds - slip through or fingers like oil.
So darling share this wine with me.
We'll be together on the eve of World War III
And will the children that have grown so high
In the back of our minds - slip through or fingers like oil.
Bathe me in shadows of Commission flats.
Though the cold does touch my arm,
I turn to face the fire on telly.
A generation with our hands in blood,
Like all the generations gone before,
And though we thought we learnt our lessons,
It seems we learnt them too well.
So darling share this wine with me.
We'll be together on the eve of World War III
And will the children that have grown so high
In the back of our minds - slip through our fingers like oil.
I think I must have seen a thousand films
Where all the boys come back from Vietnam
And when they said they'd purged their conscience,
For a second I thought they meant it.
So in the congress hear them plead
And try and carve their words in history
Though we all fear the loss of life,
Our leaders fear the rise in global petrol prices.
So darling share this wine with me.
We'll be together on the eve of World War III
And will the children that have grown so high
In the back of our minds - slip through or fingers like oil.
So darling share this wine with me.
We'll be together on the eve of World War III
And will the children that have grown so high
In the back of our minds - slip through or fingers like oil.
Credits
Writer(s): Greg Arnold
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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