Pete Atkin - Faded Mansion On The Hill lyrics

Atkin-James When you see what can't be helped go by With bloody murder in its eye And the mouth of a man put on the rack The voice of a man about to crack When you see the litter of their lives The stupid children, bitter wives Your self-esteem in disarray You do your best to climb away From the streaming traffic of decay Believing if you will that all these sick hate days Are just a kind of trick Fate plays But still behind your shaded eyes That mind-constricting thick weight stays When on the outskirts of the town Comes bumping cavernously down Out of the brick gateways From the faded mansion on the hill The out-of-date black Cadillac With the old man crumpled in the back That Time has not yet found the time to k** Between the headlands to the sea the fleeing yachts of summer go White as a sheet and faster than the driven snow Like dolphins riding high and giant seabirds flying low And square across the wind the cats and wingsails pull ahead Living their day as if it almost could be said The cemetery of home could somehow soon be left for dead But the graveyard of tall ships is really here Where the gra** breaks up the driveway more each year And here is all these people have And everything they can't believe The beach the poor men never reach The shore the rich men never leave Between the headlands from the sea the homing yachts of summer fill The night with shouts and falling sails and then are still The avenues wind up into the darkness of the hill Where Time tonight might find the time to k**