| Lyrics |
If nothing is givennothing is requiredsent early to bedthe boy never tiredalone in the darkhe learned not to crythen in his dreamhe could fall, he could fly(the bird's on the wingthere's blood on the thorn)alone in the darkhe learned not to crythen in his dreamhe could fall, he could fly(the bird's on the wingthere's blood on the thornthe snails on the runwaya comet is born)
It was a careless life in any sense
A long way out with no defense
Another careless life
Another tilt at staying free
Blessed are the poor in spirit
We'd better be
The women fell silentwhen trouble beganthey carried the babiesthey carried the canthey carried his casesout to the carwaving him off toanother small war(everyone thinks andno one knowseveryone knows andno one thinks)
It was a careless life in any sense
A long way out with no defense
Another careless life
Another tilt at staying free
Blessed are the poor in spirit
We'd better be
Trawling the desertthe whole press-card jivetempting the gunsto be sure he's alivedictating impressionsfor memoirs to comethe sky held its breaththe stones were dumbthey blew his driverout of the jeepheadlines on Sundaysmake editors weepall these adventuresall of these rhymesdon't stand a prayerin desperate times(the bird's on the wingthere's blood on the thornthe snails on the runwaya comet is borneveryone thinks andno one knowseveryone knows andnobody knows)
It was a careless life in any sense
A long way out with no defense
Another careless life
Another tilt at staying free
Blessed are the poor in spirit
We'd better be
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