Erik Laakso | PÃ¥ Uppstuds

Något klokt och bra att lyssna på en lördag i oktober.

Armalite, street lights, nightsights
Searching the roofs for a sniper, a viper, a fighter
Death in the shadows he’ll maim you, he’ll wound you, he’ll kill you
For a long forgotten cause
On not so foreign shores
Boys baptised in war
Boys baptised in war

Morphine, chill scream, bad dream
Serving as numbers on dogtags, flakrags, sandbags
Your girl has married your best friend, loves end, poison pen
Your flesh will always creep, tossing turning sleep
The wounds that burn so deep, burn so deep

Your mother sits on the edge of the world when the cameras start to roll
Panoramic viewpoint resurrect the killing fold
Your father drains another beer, he’s one of the few that cares
Crawling behind a Saracen’s hull from the safety of his living room chair
Forgotten Sons
Forgotten Sons
Forgotten Sons

And so as I patrol in the valley of the shadow of the Tricolour I must fear evil
For I am but mortal and mortals can only die
Asking questions, pleading answers from the nameless faceless watchers
That parade the carpeted corridors of Whitehall
Who orders desecration, mutilation, verbal masturbation in the guarded bureaucratic wombs
Minister, Minister care for your children
Order them not into damnation
To eliminate those who would trespass against you
For whose is the kingdom, the power, the glory for ever and ever
Amen
Amen
Amen
Amen
Amen
Amen
Amen

“Halt who goes there!” - ” Death!!”
“Approach … friend”
You’re just another coffin on its way down the emerald aisle
When your children’s stony glances mourn
Your death in a terrorist’s smile
The bomber’s arm placing fiery gifts on the supermarket shelves
Alley sings with shrapnel detonate a temporary hell
Forgotten Sons
Forgotten Sons

From the dolequeue to the regiment a profession in a flash
But remember Monday signings when from door to door you dash
On the news a nation mourns you unknown soldier count the cost
For a second you’ll be famous but labelled posthumous

Ring-a-ring-o-roses, they all fall down
Ring-a-ring-o-roses, they all fall down
Ring-a-ring-o-roses
Ring-a-ring-o-roses
Ring-a-ring-o-roses, they all fall down

Forgotten Son
Forgotten Son
Forgotten Son
They’re still forgotten, they’re still still forgotten
Peace on earth and mercy mild, Mother Brown has lost her child
Just another Forgotten Son

Andra bloggar om: marillion, musik