The winding factory streets are clean
Old ladies put the kettle on
And all-night lechers pause and lean
On grey shop windows, everywhere
A deeper hum is in the air
Hotel room, drifter leaves no clues
He rides a freight-train out of town
And whistles at the icy rime
The cattle float like thistle-downs
And God is on the edge of time
Somewhere behind a siren wails
The freight-train soars above the rails
The traveller, he's hard as nails
As the train sweeps down the line
The salmon Season's here to stay
And etched into each shoulder-bone
The mark of Cain is on display
As stone above each measured stone
Old Dresden burns above the breeze
The traveller, he's on his knees
He's watching sledge-wings dip and play
So far above the holy throne
Dresden blues . . .
The morning breeze is off and gone The winding factory streets are clean Old ladies put the kettle on And all-night lechers pause and lean On grey shop windows, everywhere A deeper hum is in the air Hotel room, drifter leaves no clues He rides a freight-train out of town And whistles at the icy rime The cattle float like thistle-downs And God is on the edge of time Somewhere behind a siren wails The freight-train soars above the rails The traveller, he's hard as nails As the train sweeps down the line The salmon Season's here to stay And etched into each shoulder-bone The mark of Cain is on display As stone above each measured stone Old Dresden burns above the breeze The traveller, he's on his knees He's watching sledge-wings dip and play So far above the holy throne Dresden blues . . . Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/c/cold_chisel/dresden.html
