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Artiste:
Big Country
Titre:
Comes A Time
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It?s a holy place if you see things that wayThen they rattle the bones and the analysts playFrom his backward collar on a worn out bookAnother working class poet with an abstract lookSo take me up to the edge of the worldAnd push me over againLead me up to the edge of the worldThere comes a timeNow, shake your hair and rattle your cansIt?s a service funded by a self-made manTalks to victims and industrial spiesHe feeds you tobacco for the four-minute mileSo take me up to the edge of the worldAnd push me over againLead me up to the edge of the worldThere comes a timeWith some strange god and a good right handWe can chase the ghost from the promised landIf the promised land turns out as it shouldWe can flood the place with consumer goodsWhen the African general meets the bingo queenAnd the collective farmer joins the teenage dreamWhen the miracle worker saves the chat show hostAnd the caveman paints another holy ghostSo take me up to the edge of the worldAnd push me over againLead me up to the edge of the worldThere comes a timeSo take me up to the edge of the worldAnd push me over againLead me up to the edge of the worldThere comes a timeWe can storm the walls in our leisure wearWhile we trap the beast in his stormy lairThen we?ll smooth his image and we?ll save his soulWhile we fill our schools with the gold we stoleWith some strange god and a good right handWe can chase the ghost from the promised landIf the promised land turns out as it shouldWe can flood the place with consumer goods