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• Artiste: Beck
• Titre: Feel The Strain Of Sorrow
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On the old forgotten crossways where the fourteen rivers did meet The bones of our elders were lying in the street On a dark and dusty desert like a ghost I've flown I barely cried wherever I ride, I never found a home Mmm feel the strain of sorrow never ceasing Mmm feel the strain of sorrow never ceasing I am a ramshackler, I go from town to town And when there is no shelter, I lay down on the ground I killed every reason they gave for me to stay Cussed and moaned and burned to bone and dragged that thing away Mmm you feel the peace of sorrow never ceasing Mmm you feel the strain of sorrow never ceasing There's saints and there's animals, they've taken what they could And it's written in the pages: "Do just like they should" They stood the test and burned the rest and tore them limb from limb And it's marked upon their faces, it's written on their skin Mmm feel the strain of sorrow never ceasing Mmm feel the strain of sorrow never ceasing