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Simon Paul The Rhythm Of The Saints The Cool, Cool River Moves like a fist through traffic Anger and no one can heal it Shoves a little bump into the momentum It's just a little lump But you feel it In the creases and the shadows With a rattling deep emotion The cool, cool river Sweeps the wild, white ocean Yes Boss. The government handshake Yes Boss. The crusher of language Yes Boss. Mr. Stillwater, The face at the edge of the banquet The cool, the cool river The cool, the cool river I believe in the future I may live in my car My radio tuned to The voice of a star Song dogs barking at the break of dawn Lightning pushes the edge of a thunderstorm And these old hopes and fears Still at my side Anger and no one can heal it Slides through the metal detector Lives like a mole in a motel A slide in a slide projector The cool, cool river Sweeps the wild, white ocean The rage of love turns inward To prayers of devotion And these prayers are The constant road across the wilderness These prayers are These prayers are the memory of God The memory of God And I believe in the future We shall suffer no more Maybe not in my lifetime But in yours I feel sure Song dogs barking at the break of dawn Lightning pushes the edges of a thunderstorm And these streets Quiet as a sleeping army Send their battered dreams to heaven, to heaven For the mother's restless son Who is a witness to, who is a warrior Who denies his urge to break and run Who says: Hard times? I'm used to them The speeding planet burns I'm used to that My life's so common it disappears And sometimes even music Cannot substitute for tears |
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