when we were young, we had no history,

so nothing to lose meant we could choose,

choose what we wanted then, without any fear,

or thought of revenge,

but then you grew old,

and I lost my ambition,

so I gained an addiction,

to drink and depression,

(they are mine,

my only true friends,

and I’ll keep them with me,

until the very end),

i’d choose not to remember,

but I miss your arrogance,

and I need your intelligence,

and your hate for authority.

but now you’re gone,

i read it today,

they found you in spain,

face down in the street,

with a bottle in your hand,

and a wild smile on your face,

and a knife in your back,

you died in a foreign land,

and they found my letter,

rolled up in your pocket,

where I said I’d kill myself,

if she left me again.

so now she’s gong,

and you’re both in my mind,

i’ve got one thing to say,

before I am drunk again,

god damn the sun,

god damn the sun,

god damn anyone

who has a kind word,

god damn the sun,

god damn the sun,

god damn the light it shines

and this world it shows.

god damn the sun.

 

Michael Gira

g o d   d a m n   t h e   s u  n

 

the swans, from the burning world

1989 uni records (MCA)

 

 

 

 

 

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