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Album - 12 aprile 1970 - Debaser id 140660

About to die - the crowds applaud you
About to die - they'll resurrect you
Light a candle up in kingdom come
Light the way for the saviour's son
A candle burning bright enough to tear the city down

About to die - the crowds reward you
About to die - their cheers ignore you
Light a candle up in kingdom come
Light the way for the chosen one
No candle burned with fire enough to tear that city down

About to die - the crowds applaud me
About to die - they'll resurrect me
Light a candle up in kingdom come
Light the way for the savior's son
A candle burning bright enough to tear the city down

(originally Wash Yourself)

Wash yourself and see your sorrow, make every pitcher clean
Take a mop to swab the floor and destroy the evil dream
Counting houses full of lead, the evil eye on high
The streets awash with blood and pus, the new moon's in the sky
God's aloft, the winds are raging
God's aloft, the winds are cold
After leaving I was weeping - count it out in tolls
Watch the book, the page is turning - how the tale unfolds
Inside every cancered spectre,
inside-outside find your own
God's aloft, the winds are raging - God's aloft, the winds are cold

Pailing well after sixteen days, a mammoth task was set
Sack the town, and rob the tower, and steal the alphabet
Close the door and bar the gate, but keep the windows clean
God's alive inside a movie! Watch the silver screen!

Rum was served to all the traitors; pygmies held themselves in check
Bloodhounds nosed around the houses, down dark alleys sailors crept
Six bells struck, the pot was boiling - soup spilled out on passers-by
Angels mumbled incantations, closely watched by God on high

Lightning struck out - fire and brimstone! Boiling oil and shrieking steam!
Darkness struck with molten fury, flashbulbs glorified the scene
Not a man who had a finger, not a man who could be seen
Nothing called (not name nor number) - Echo stormed its final scream

Daybreak washed with sands of gladness, rotting all it rotted clean
Windows peeped out on their neighbors, inside fireside bedsides gleam
SHALIMAR, the trumpets chorused, angels wholly all shall take
Those alive will meet the prophets, those at peace shall see their wake

There's too many women and not enough wine
Too many poets and not enough rhyme
Too many glasses and not enough time
Draw your own conclusions

My old dog's a good old dog
My old man's a silly old sod
The human face is a terrible place
Choose your own examples

Went to the river, but I could not swim
Knew I'd drown if I went in
Lost my faith in a terrible race
Rest-in-peace hereafter