The River

Well, the river came to me, and it washed us all away.

Someone is chasing me and noted where I used to stay.

And I feel as I've been here many times before.

As I kneel and I pick up the pieces on the floor.

And you ask me in a voice, that is quiet, that is strong:

"Tell me of a place where the living don't belong."

I remember falling to the other side.

I remember leaving my body behind.

But the river pulled me away,

Before I got a chance to say what I say.

And under the jacket I did lay.

And the Christmas lights, they come from nowhere.

I had visions often of rivers,

No, I didn't know their names.

I had visions, notwithstanding in the heart of it all.

And you ask me to tell you:

"Oh, what people might we become?"

Tell me of the dying we have done.

But the river pulled me away,

Before I got a chance to say what I say.

And under the jacket I did lay.

And the Christmas lights, they came from nowhere.

Oh, and under the river I stay.

I won't get the chance to say what I say.

Under the jacket, I will lay.

And the Christmas lights, they come from nowhere.

And the Christmas lights, they come from nowhere.

And the Christmas lights, they come from nowhere.