Из альбома: Folk Songs of the American Longhair
I slept through the time of waking
Blind like a new soul born
Torn from the God that made me
Thrown to the hell below.
Raised in a land of cages
Locked upon the dust
Up from the foot of a baby
Down to the heel of a dog
Just racing round
With my brain done blown
Just wasting time
Trying to fill a hole
Here come all the signs a’breaking.
Laid from the hand of God
You know strange is the way he made us.
Lost in the Burning Sun.
I can’t tell what is damned or sacred.
Can’t tell you where to find no love
Strange is the way god made us
Lost in the hells above
You want it.
You need it.
You feel it in your bones.
Touch it.
Go on take it.
Looking for to fill a hole.