Texty písní Matthew Perryman Jones

Matthew Perryman Jones

O Theo

Under the silence of water,

Into a sky full of birds

Out from the land of our fathers,

I am falling on your words,

Oh...

Dark as the night of a preacher,

I made a bed out of hay

They paid me a handful of money,

I gave it all away...

All away...

And the righteous raised their stones

And the devil threw his arrow

That was longing for a home

With nowhere to go,

Oh, Theo...

In the half-life of the city,

She took off all of her clothes

I flew from the height of the mountains

Into a valley of dry bones

All alone

Then my heart was still unknown

I was drunk and full of sorrows

I was longing for a home

With nowhere to go,

Oh, Theo...

So, I set fires of starlight,

To burn up against the despair

I was caught in the tangles of midnight's

Long, unanswered prayer:

'Are you there?'

And the light of morning grows

On a field of fallen sparrows

I was longing for a home

With nowhere to go,

Oh, Theo...

Ahh, ahh, ahh

Ahh, ahh, ahh