The style council

Ghosts of dachau

The style council
I close my eyes - I reach out my hand
And there you are - beautiful in scabs
Caressing my scalp - under the mounts of the gun towers
I shout your name - I kick out in dreams
And here we are - the searchlight beams
The siren squeals - and hopeless shuffle to certainty

The crab lice bite - the typhoid smells
And I still here - handsome in rags
A trouserless man - waiting helpless for dignity

Come to me angel, don't go to the showers
Beg, steal or borrow - now there's nothing left to take
Except eternity

And who will come - to flower our graves?
With us still here - covered with dust
Remembered by few but forgotten by the majority

Stay with me angel - don't get lost in history
Don't let all we suffered lose it's meaning in the dark
That we call memory

Encontrou algum erro na letra? Por favor envie uma correção clicando aqui!