quinta-feira, 4 de julho de 2019

Your sword's grown old and rusty

Your sword's grown old and rusty
Burnt beneath the rising sun
It's locked up like a trophy
Forgetting all the things it's done


And though it's been a long time
You're right back where you started from
I see it in your eyes

That now you're giving up the gun

I heard you play guitar down at a seedy bar
Where skinheads used to fight
Your Tokugawa smile and your garbage style
Used to save the night

You felt the coming wave, told me we'd all be brave
You said you wouldn't flinch
But in the years that passed since I saw you last
You haven't moved an inch

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