The streets are cracked And there's glass everywhere And a baby stares out With motherless eyes Under long gone beauty On fields of war Trapped in lament To the poet's core
Oh, where, oh, where will I be? Oh, where, oh, where will I be?
Met an Indian boy in Ottawa He laid me down on a bed of straw Said don't waste your breath Don't waste your heart Don't blister your heels Running in the dark
Oh, where, oh, where will I be? Oh, where, oh, where will I be? (Oh, where will I be?) (Just try it)
Yeah, I like the heat Of your body laying under me May your wild lip get you where your going With your inventions, your intentions, your laughter Your forever yearning
Oh, where, oh, where will I be? Oh, where, oh, when that trumpet sounds Oh, where, oh, where Oh, where, when that trumpet sounds
Oh, where, oh, where will I be? Oh, where, oh, where will I be? Oh, where, oh, where Oh, where
Compositor: Fred again / Daniel Lanois / Giampaolo “Jack” Parisi / Marco ParisiPublicado em 2002 e lançado em 2011 (26/Mai)ECAD verificado fonograma #11142602 em 11/Abr/2024