Текст (слова) песни: The Fatima Mansions - Sleep of the Just
Lift up your head, lift up your head Your room in this decade of eathquake and bile awaits you like a stewardess`s mortuary smile
You`ll miss all the fun, you`ll miss all the fun A rich man turned pauper, his death marked [a sham] I can`t get back to see it, `til you lift up your head
Me and mine are fools, me and mine are fools say our elders who despise us, though we`re no longer young They`re tired of our sneering, and we`ve blocked out their main street`s sun
They`re sleeping as we rise, one punch is drunk with pride resides in [brutal face], sick from petrol smoke and [steak] The few bohemians, with their too-white shopping wrists confide in some crimson [page] and pray to look cute in their squalor-dyed hair Old age
Rolled out of here, is sun bright and clear and we hold the fortune, in our cumulous There`s nothing else on earth that I will be part of Why waste a lifetime on soil which won`t bear fruit? and why argue with gangsters who only smile and act mute? If he pulls that trigger, as he says he must, then to them, goes the last word [and then] The sleep of the just, the sleep of the just, the sleep of the just
But that`s never enough But that`s never, never enough
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