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Peter Green - Faint-heart And The Sermon lyrics
With my face drained of colour
 And my brain of blood
 Like Billy Budd
 I'm lashed to the grating;
 With senses growing duller
 And with quaking heart
 I make a start
 At temperature equating
 And my lungs suck useless air.
 Like paraplegic dancers
 In format
 Ion team
 My understanding seems
 Hiidebound in it's movements,
 Contemplating answers
 That could break my bonds--
 To be half wrong
 Would be, in me, improvement...
 But my comprehensive faculties are impaired.
 And it seems absurd, but now all I've heard
 F
 Ades in empty words and is worthless
 As the Human Laugh rocks the cenotaph
 But the joke is half-true, and mirthless.
 Trying to trace a reason
 From the spinning words
 But all I've heard
 Seem at odds with their meanings,
 Phonetically pleasing
 But deliv
 Ered in such haste
 That in their place
 My mind commences screaming.
 On the verge of belief I crash onto the reef
 And a cynical thief steals my senses,
 So I cling to the pew with dimensions askew,
 And recognition refuses present tenses.
 All the lives
 of the saints demonstrate that my faint
 Is a minor complaint, but the end isPeter Green - Faint-heart And The Sermon - http://motolyrics.com/peter-green/faint-heart-and-the-sermon-lyrics.html
 Nowhere in sight,
 Why can't I find me a way to go?
 I don't want to die in the nave,
 But I know it may be with me some day
 So I've got to find a way I can save up
 My evergies, and find a cause to pray
 So something for something
 To which I can give my creed...
 I'd gladly succumb to the wave,
 If I thought the water taught a way to light;
 I'd gladly succumb--I'm not brave,
 And it's easy to believe what the preacher says
 Except for the conflict raging between my head
 And my brain.
 I don't want to die, but just the same--
 Some day....
 Waiting for that moment
 That I know will come
 When I'll have to run
 And find another sermon...
 Everyman and Norman
 And the talking priest--
 Still, I am at least
 Holding all the doors open.
 Inside me all outside is shared.
 As the cracked bells peal it all seems unreal
 But the seventh seal stays unbroken
 And the Offertory plate tenders no escape--
 Still I refuse to scrape up a token
 Of e
 Steem for these false
 Alleyways of the course;
 I must try to divorce sense from sensing.
 Tell me again,
 Tell me the way to go.
 So when I talk to myself
 Although I take good care to listen
 My heart grows ever more faint--
 There's something missing?
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