paroles de chanson Song of Joy - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
Have
mercy
on
me,
sir,
Allow
me
to
impose
on
you;
I
have
no
place
to
stay
and
my
bones
are
cold
right
through
I
will
tell
you
a
story
of
a
man
and
his
family,
And
I
swear
that
it
is
true
Ten
years
ago
I
met
a
girl
named
Joy:
She
was
a
sweet
and
happy
thing;
Her
eyes
were
bright
blue
jewels
And
we
were
married
in
the
spring
I
had
no
idea
what
happiness
a
little
love
could
bring,
Or
what
life
had
in
store...
But
all
things
move
toward
their
end,
All
things
move
toward
their
end
—
On
that
you
can
be
sure
Hit
it!
Mmm...
Then
one
morning
I
woke
to
find
her
weeping
and
for
many
days
to
follow
She
grew
so
sad
and
lonely;
Became
Joy
in
name
only
Within
her
breast
there
launched
an
unnamed
sorrow
and
a
dark
and
grim
force
set
sail
"Farewell
happy
fields,
Where
joy
forever
dwells,
Hail,
horrors,
hail!"
Was
it
an
act
of
contrition,
or
some
awful
premonition?
As
if
she
saw
into
of
her
final
blood-soaked
night;
Those
lunatic
eyes,
That
hungry
kitchen
knife
Ah,
I
see,
sir,
that
I
have
your
attention!
Well,
could
it
be?
How
often
have
I
asked
that
question?
Well,
then
in
quick
succession
we
had
babies,
one,
two,
three
We
called
them
Hilda,
Hattie
and
Holly;
They
were
their
mother's
children:
Their
eyes
were
bright
blue
jewels
and
they
were
quiet
as
a
mouse,
There
was
no
laughter
in
the
house,
No,
not
from
Hilda,
Hattie
or
Holly
"No
wonder",
people
said,
"poor
mother
Joy's
so
melancholy"
Well,
one
night,
there
came
a
visitor
to
our
little
home
I
was
visiting
a
sick
friend;
I
was
a
doctor
then;
Joy
and
the
girls
were
on
their
own
Yeah...
Oh
yeah...
Joy
had
been
bound
with
electrical
tape,
In
her
mouth
a
gag;
She'd
been
stabbed
repeatedly
and
stuffed
into
a
sleeping
bag
In
their
very
cots
my
girls
were
robbed
of
their
lives
Method
of
murder
much
the
same
way
as
my
wife's
Method
of
murder
much
the
same
way
as
my
wife's
It
was
midnight
when
I
arrived
home
Said
to
the
police
on
the
telephone
"Someone's
taken
four
innocent
lives!"
They
never
caught
the
man;
He's
still
on
the
loose.
It
seems
he's
done
many,
many
more
Quotes
John
Milton
on
the
walls
in
the
victim's
blood
The
police
are
investigating
at
tremendous
cost
In
my
house
he
wrote,
"[his
red
right
hand]"
That,
I'm
told,
is
from
Paradise
Lost
The
wind
round
here
gets
wicked
cold
But
my
story
is
nearly
told;
I
fear
the
morning
will
bring
quite
a
frost
So
I've
left
my
home
I
drift
from
land
to
land
I
am
upon
your
step
and
you
are
a
family
man
—
Outside,
the
vultures
wheel,
The
wolves
howl,
The
serpents
hiss,
And
to
extend
this
small
favor,
friend,
would
be
the
sum
of
earthly
bliss
Do
you
reckon
me
a
friend?
The
sun
to
me
is
dark
and
silent
as
the
moon
—
Do
you,
sir,
have
a
room?
Are
you
beckoning
me
in?
Hit
it!
[[chorus]]]
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