Sorrow, sorrow, sorrow,
Fresh blood dripping onto snow.
When everything starts to slow,
Frozen rivers can still flow.
Speak up, speak up, speak up,
But not when the timing’s ill.
No-one trying to raise hell.
Elbows on those windowsills.
Sorrow, sorrow,
No telling where I might go,
The bulb is losing its glow,
Dictionary ear-marked at ‘hope,’
Sorrow, sorrow,
The account will refuse to grow.
That stream gonna run too low,
More books out on how to cope.
Sorrow, sorrow,
When the pack goes for the kill,
When the pack gets on the smell,
The bulb will burst
and we won’t care.
Speak up…
It’s about to…
Before we’re pushing our luck,
Before everything kicks off,
-Hello!
-Good morning.
-Are you washed in our Saviour’s blood? Oh- this won’t take a second, sir! This won’t take a-
Kestrel.
You keep your head so still
Above it
And we won’t care
We won’t-
Wake up, wake up!
Mr. Brown hears the alarm clock
Always for the Shipping Forecast,
Before Prayer For The Day, it’s off.
Got no time for that useless stuff. (I live in real life)
Got my head into real life, I live in real life
I live in real life
I live in real life
I live in real life
I live-
Kestrel.
You keep your head so still,
And we won’t care
Kestrel