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Текст (слова) песни: The Church - Tristesse



Here in this desert, beneath the sun and stars
Still troubled by the rumblings of a million distant cars
Please be good to me tonight, let me find my way
The air has some command in it I cannot disobey
A gunfight in Dodge City, a murder in Bombay
All these deeds and worldly needs I must shrug off today
All my life spent searching for prowess
Left me lying here with you, tristesse

I was working in an orchard that grew the strangest fruit
It wasn`t Mother Nature that made those trees take root
Your children cannot hear you, they only want your loot
You hold on to their essence like a parachute
They never believed you were in distress
Now you`ve gone and left them with tristesse

Oh, waters inflamed
Ah, fires burning out
Ah, ice melting down
Ah, fires burnt out

A hotel suite in a rich man`s town, a hut in Botany Bay
A prisoner by my own device, a mountain in my way
I`m gonna have to alter my address
"Cause I can`t stay much longer with tristesse
And they call this carnival progress
Invited by our queen tonight, tristesse

 

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