Stan Rogers - Uncle Emile, he's gone now nearly ten days Тексты

We live in fear of no one to love us
Of feeling like an empty hole
With no kind heart or strengthening hand
To light the dark and secret soul.
Behind the walls of lonely protection
Afraid to give for what we may lose,
And to hide our sin, or let someone within,
Everyone will have to choose!

Chorus:
Put your life on the line,
Give your hand and pledge your time
To the love whose lips inflame you
Like some ancient and golden wine;
And to all it's a start in fulfilling greatest needs in part,
For in whatever we dream of what we some day want to be
It's a matter of heart.

We like to think we know what we're doing,
We always like to be in control.
The rational mind rules the passionate heart
Is what the ancient sages told.
But that can sound a little bit hollow,
When you're sitting by the fire alone!
And the rarest old wine tastes of ashes and brine,
When you've no one there to keep you warm.
Chorus:

The way in which our pride will stall us,
When we know we should be losing control,
Puts us in the fear of falling and we let it go!
Our careful words are self-deceiving,
Though we like to call them 'pretense' and 'art',
But every old line is held in the mind,
When it's really just a matter of heart.
Chorus X 2: