Frank Turner - The Road - Solo Acoustic paroles de chanson

paroles de chanson The Road - Solo Acoustic - Frank Turner



To the east, to the east, the road beneath my feet
To the west, to the west but I haven't got there yet
And to the north, to the north, never to be caught
To the south, to the south, my time is running out
Ever since my childhood I've been scared, I've been afraid
Of being trapped by circumstance of staying in one place
So I always keep a small bag full of clothes carefully stored
Somewhere secret, somewhere safe and somewhere close to the door
Well, I've traveled many countries, washed my feet in many seas
I've drank with grifters in Vienna and with punks in old D.C.
And I've driven across deserts, driven by the irony
That only being shackled to the road could ever I be free
To the east, to the east, the road beneath my feet
To the west, to the west but I haven't got there yet
And to the north, to the north, never to be caught
To the south, to the south, my time is running out
I've felt old before my time but now I keep the age away
By burning up the miles and, yeah, by filling up my days
And the nights, a thousand nights I've played a thousand more to go
Before I take a breath and steel myself for the next one thousand shows
To the east, to the east, the road beneath my feet
To the west, to the west but I haven't got there yet
To the north, to the north, never to be caught
To the south, to the south, my time is running out
Yeah, so saddle up your horses now and keep your powder dry
'Cause the truth is you won't be here long, yeah, soon you're going to die
To the heart, to the heart, there's no time for you to waste
You won't find your precious answers now by staying in one place
Yeah, by giving up the chase
To the east, to the east, the road beneath my feet
To the west, to the west but I haven't got there yet
And to the north, to the north, I never will be caught
To the south, to the south, my time is running out
Yeah, to the south, to the south, my time is running out
Yeah, to the south, to the south, my time is running out
I face the horizon, everywhere I go
I face the horizon, the horizon is my home
I face the horizon, everywhere that I go
I face the horizon, the horizon is my home



Writer(s): Turner Francis Edward


Frank Turner - Poetry of the Deed
Album Poetry of the Deed
date de sortie
06-09-2009




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