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• Artiste: Fred again..
• Titre: Where Will I Be
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Oh, the streets are cracked and there's glass everywhere And the children stare with a motherless eyes In arms of beauty and on fields of war Trapped in lament from the poet's core Oh where Oh where will I be? Oh where When that old trumpet sounds? I met an Indian girl in Ottawa She said, you'll be all right when you wah wah Don't waste your breath, don't waste your heart Don't blister your heels walking in the dark Oh where Oh where will I be? Oh where When that old trumpet sounds? Yeah, I like the heat of your body laying under me May your wild lip get you where you're going With your inventions, your intentions, your laughter Your forever yearning Oh where Oh where When that trumpet sounds? Are you talking, filling the air, healing the scars Gnawing away at the steel bars Going down pure, crawling in the cracks Going all the way down and coming all the way back Oh where Oh where Oh where When that trumpet sounds? Oh where Oh where When that trumpet sounds? Well, the heart opens wide like it's never seen love And addiction stays on tight like a glove Oh where Oh where will I be?