Langue   

Forgotten Sons

Marillion
Langue: anglais


Marillion


Armalite, street lights, nightsights
Searching the roofs for a sniper, a viper, a fighter
Death in the shadows he'll maim you, wound you, kill you
for a long forgotten cause, on not so foreign shores,
boys baptised in wars.

Morphine, chill stream, bad dream
Serving as numbers on dogtags, flakrags, sandbags
Your friend has married your best friend, loves end, poison pen
Your flesh will always creep, tossing turning sleep
The wounds that burn so deep.

Your mother sits on the edge of the world
When the cameras start to roll
Panoramic viewpoints ressurect the killing fold
Your father drains another beer he's one of the few that cares
Crawling behind a Saracen's hull
from the safety of his living room chair -
Forgotten Sons, Forgotten Sons, Forgotten Sons.

And so I patrol the valley of the shadow of the Tricolor
I must fear evil for I am but mortal and mortals can only die
asking questions, pleading answers from the nameless
faceless watchers that stalk the carpeted corridors of Whitehall
Who order desecration, mutilation, verbal masturbation
in their guarded bureaucratic wombs

Minister, Minister care for your children, order them not
into damnation to eliminate those who would trespass
against you, for whose is the kingdom and the power and the
glory, forever and ever Amen - Halt who goes there, death,
approach friend

You're just another coffin on its way down the emerald aisle
Where the children's stoney glances mourn your death
in a terrorist's smile.
The bomber's arm places fiery gifts on the supermarket shelves,
Alleys sing with shrapnel dance in a temporary hell

Forgotten Sons

From the dolequeue to the regiment a profession in a flash,
but remember Monday's signings when from door to door you dash,
On the news a nation mourns you unknown soldier count the cost,
For a second you'll be famous but labelled posthumous

Forgotten Sons Forgotten Sons

Peace on earth and mercy mild, Mother Brown has lost her child

Just another Forgotten Son



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