There is a hot wind blowing it moves across the oceans and into every port. A plague. A black plague. There's danger everywhere And you've been sailing. And you're all alone on an island now tuning in. Did you think this was the way Your world would end? Hombres. Sailors. Comrades. There is no pure land now. No safe place. And we stand here on the pier Watching you drown. Love among the sailors. Love among the sailors. There is a hot wind blowing. Plague drifts across the oceans. And if this is the work of an angry god I want to look into his angry face. There is no pure land now. No safe place. Come with us into the mountains. Hombres. Sailors. Comrades.
Sonntag, 17. Juli 2011
Ou-u-uu.. -- .. it's cold outside..
I need some comfort from my friend Laurie A.