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You sit astride a chair and your tousled, tangled hair falls across your face as you're talking. And I thought I saw you frown behind the veil of silken brown and I try to clear my head - but it's not working CHORUS: And the fire starts to rise and it's happening again! My words are like birds with wings that are broken... Cursed be desire to the ashes of the fire! And if only the right words had been spoken..... Your silence turns the room to a cold and empty tomb and my temper's running much to high for weeping. 'Cos I feel I'm doing wrong to a dozen unborn songs that lie within my head - they're not dead, just sleeping CHORUS: And the fire starts to burn and it's happening again! My words are like birds with wings that are broken... Cursed be desire to the ashes of the fire! And if only the right words had been spoken..... The crowd is pressing round and your friends are coming down and I see you smile and rise to them in greeting and I'm feeling kinda bad - 'cos any chances that I had, are lost amongst the people that you're meeting..... CHORUS: And the fire starts to hurt and it's happening again! My words are like birds with wings that are broken... Cursed be desire to the ashes of the fire! And if only the right words had been spoken..... Now it's time for you to leave and you've gathered those you need and I see ahead a long and long night-time... As your dancing figure weaves beneath the silhouetted trees, I wonder - will there ever be a right time? CHORUS: When the fire will burn for the very last time... and birds will rise with wings unbroken... And cursed will be desire to the ashes of the fire!... and the right words will have been spoken..... Lyrics & Music: © Rosie Hardman 1970 Trailer Records: LER 2075 (1971) |
