|
PICTURES OF HOME (Blackmore/Gillan/Glover/Lord/Paice)
Somebody's shouting up at a mountain Only my own words return. Nobody's up there, it's a deception When will I ever learn.
I'm alone here, with emptiness, eagles and snow Unfriendliness chilling my body And whispering pictures of home.
Wondering blindly how can they find me Maybe they don't even know. My body is shaking anticipating The call of the black footed crow...
Here in this prison of my own making Year after day I have grown. Into a hero but there's no worship Where have they hidden my thrown...
|
|