letra de indian rain - divine comedy
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i feel as if i have been buried alive
for the best part of five hundred years
my body encased in a mountain of waste
until one day my face reappears
—- bends with the years that it spends
in positions tormenting my soul
but now they are free to emanc-p-te me
from the celibacy of the soul
so turn in your grave
hold back the incoming rain
—- wind in my face like the linen and lace
are surrounding —- like —-
fresh air in my lungs —- sharing his songs
—- through the gr-ss
new blood in my veins like red indian rain
stripping us of all shame we possess
with tears in my eyes (and with anguish) i cry:
“i was free all the time, i confess!”
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