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Craig Corona
0000-00-00

Lyrics

After the tragedy of September 11th I, as I'm sure a lot of songwriters were, was moved to write a song in response. Since I had no serious album project at the time it remained dormant. Here is a fully produced version. Thanks to all that helped in the making of it.... A Quick Turn You look at me and blink as if to ask me why I struggle for an answer but can just look back and sigh How can the road to paradise lead through this shattered scene Of twisted thoughts like metal pulled apart by some machine And the angels play on harps like a pied piper leading home A quick turn toward the light and then they’re gone A rage of fire deep within, a hurt that’s hard to pass Ideals fuel the embers and we’re blinded by the ash Should we afford to tend the flame and let it burn at will Or let a calm prevail and take a refuge in it’s still And the angels play on harps like a pied piper leading home A quick turn toward towards that light and we’ll be gone In the desert there are flowers that bloom despite the heat Like a spark of hope in desolation waking from a sleep To be nurtured they need little more than looking on with love And if they can bloom then surely there’s a chance to rise above And the angels play on harps like a pied piper leading home A quick turn into light and then they’re gone And the angels play on harps their songs of what we could become Wrap their glow around us we are one Wrap their glow around us we are one
Craig Corona
2012-02-04
Craig Corona
Craig Corona
2012-02-18

Lyrics

Ask me not for where I’m bound

Now that I have been set free

For these chains still weigh me down

Hanging on so desperately

 

It’ll take some cold, steel rails

to break these binds

Split the links but take a limb

Left slowly bleeding, southbound line

 

         Station by Station the towns roll away

         I can’t get no sleep

         The conductor sings his song of “ticket please”

         I show him you, he just walks past

         This train slowly rumbles through the night

 

The dining car is empty save for

One soul, looks a lot like me

Empty bottle, empty glass

His expression makes the three

 

The whistle blows that mournful tone

Like in all those songs of fame

Pull the brake to slow it down

Or jump off just the same

 

         Station by Station the towns roll away

         I can’t get no sleep

         The conductor sings his song of “ticket please”

         I show him you, he just walks past

         This train slowly rumbles through the….

 

Station by Station the towns roll away

         I can’t get no sleep

         The conductor sings his song of “ticket please”

         I show him you, he just walks past

         This train slowly rumbles through the night