MUSIC FOR SALE

There’s a prophet by the corner, he’s a yuppie
He tells me “Things sometimes are like they seem
The Englishman he told you “You got lucky”
But you have no idea of what this means”

The prophet sees my soul and tells me “Maybe
You ain’t the kind of man who will complain
But everybody: sweethearts, bums and babies
Are doomed to slip away just like they’re rain”

Ritornello
I read about this prophet in the Bible
Jesus told me “My friend you should beware”
Behind his mighty words he hides a rifle
He has no kind of truth that’s worth to share
He’s got no truth that he can share

The prophet has no need for conversation
He judges what I do and what I am
He tells me “Man I’ll give no explanation
You’re just another useless grain of sand”

Ritornello

Strumentale

As I do turn around and walk away
The prophet whispers “Nothing’s like before
I can see sinking ships and skies of grey
And many corpses lying on the shore”

Ritornello