the western world

 

the western world

all is quiet in the western world
there are shadows in the east
gears turning as the the paper martyrs
revving up for a feast

all voices coming home
rushng back to me

an intelligence in the world
like a boat on the ocean
like a blue eyed, golden girl
with a hint of devotion

all voices come rushing on
calling back to me

one day the sun will block out all your distant rage
and all your lost and tired clues
will lead you down the path and through that giant maze
where she reveals it all to you

and in the wilds of the western world
where pain and hearts collide
we hear the patter of the little footsteps
here comes the child

and he is coming home
and he is rushing back to me

one day i'll see the rain and take it for what it is
a little water on the grave
one night i'll see the moon and shake my sorry head
all this confusion was in vain

it's gone silent in the western world
and there is motion in the east
there crawls towards bethlehem the
black eyed beast

and he is rushing home
rushing home to me