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• Artiste: Peter Murphy
• Titre: The Sister Of Sleep
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He was thought of as strange A good looking man And shallow eyes Like two hidden from view and Empty puddles of hue His views on death Spread like two anecdotal tales Although he reclining declining To disclose in public These opinions in public The tales held the key Death is the surname of sleep But the surname unknown to us Sleep is the daily end of life A small exercise in death Which is it's sister But not every brother and sister Are equally close Giving to the enemy A small exercise in submission And holding onto nothing He was thought of as strange A good looking man And shallow eyes Like two hidden from view And empty puddles of hue His views on death. One day You will be the one To say I'm sick of empty fun It means If your faith is strong It means You are no longer astray See I see all the light It comes straight from teh sun And I want to get near So I can be clear Don't get shy Don't get caught With the world And its thoughts I'm not asking for worship Or lazy sleazy thought