Prodigal Son  - Bruce Springsteen

    In a place where outlaws are banned from the rane
    On a day mountains has fallen to foes
    In a land where boys are forbidden to grow
    And metal is the only master
    Were the higway ends and the desert breaks
    and buildings are bent from great earthquackes
    And statesmen crawl on their bellies like snakes
    And feed of the public hunger
    In a land were sky-scrapers scratch the sky
    And delinquent daughters to their mothers still lie
    Papa stands on the corner he wants to beat the drum
    Welcome Home My Prodigal Son
    When Rivers run raising through city streets
    And great eagels have fallen from their lofty peaks
    And policemen moonlight aside show freaks
    for the final crime is commited
    When Presidents ride in Ford Mustangs
    And the Black man releases his Caddilac fangs
    And you checked out in bed as the landbird bangs A young girl next door for the rent
    Where telegraph wires are attached you and mine
    And delinquent daughters to their mothers still lie
    Papa stands on the corner waitin to beat the drum
    Welcome Home My Prodigal Son
    When the telephone rings and falls of the hook
    And your legs have been stolen by some defense department crook
    And you startin' to think about writing a book
    But now you won't pledge allegiance to anything
    And the maid comes in with coffee and cake
    In a low-cut dress she wore just for your sake
    You explain your not dead and she takes it as a compliment
    and sticks out her tounge and asks for requests
    In a land were skyscrapers scratch the sky
    and delinquent daughters to their mothers still lie
    Papa stands on the corner waitin' to beat the drum
    Welcome Home My Prodigal Son
    And the mercury men with hydraulic joints
    They bribe with a smile and hold you up in the alley at pin point
    And they ask you to bend over that they may anoint
    You with holy water of your profession
    When the line between love and hate gets so thin
    And your body takes over when your mind gives in
    And your lady lover demands that you pin her to the floor
    But its too late your reflexes are shot
    And the man on the corner with the nervous twitch
    Whispers hey how'd ya like to buy a nice bitch
    She's a 38 and I got her loaded in all six
    He keeps talking and you just keep walking
    And you reach for the sky and get stuck on a steeple
    You reach out for love but you get lost in the people
    You run through the canyon
    Screaming like an eagle and you fall face first in the mud
    In a land where skyscrapers scratch the sky
    and delinquent daughters have their own children who lie
    Papa stands on the corner waiting the parade
    He wants to beat the drum
    Welcome Home
    Welcome Home My Prodigal Son
    Welcome Home My Prodigal Son
     
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    Marco Giunco
    Work Basket Music Words