Bokor

The Island Of St. Menée (Beach Of The Living Dead)

Bokor


The fare is one dollar a ritual 
The fare is one dollar a ritual 
paid in advance 
paid in advance 

from the tall ships of old Europe, to the cruisers of today 
they've always come, like sheep on display 
wild dreams in the pitch black nights, the fever in the blood 
makes you remember the feel of the red African soil 
forgive me for walking alone, 

forgive me for walking alone, 
out in the bush,l in the outskirts of the city 
among the slum shacks where the bright love reigns 

On through the verdure 
I am 
my own shadow, alone in the crowd 
down on the shore 

empty hotels above the sand, like tombstones 
love is in the chicken blood spilled on earthen floors 
in the heaving breasts of Our Lady of the Dead dancing 
forgive me for walking alone 

On through the verdure 
I am 
my own shadow, alone in the crowd 
down on the shore 
Lost in the undergrowth 
I am 
in the darkness now, one in the crowd 
down on the shore 
rejoicing 

(I am love withering) 
Dark shapes move in the shantytown 
(I am grace in death) 
like fish in the deep gloom of the ocean 
(I am the wings of the dove) 
The drummer boy and his army moves 
(I am riddles and joy) 
adrift in the night along the shoreline 

embers and clay 
ashes burnt gray 
keep your mouth shut 
enter the hut 

touvhing her skin 
bright love begins 
nothing is sin 
the snake lives within 

home 

The fare is one body a ritual 
The fare is one body a ritual 
paid in advance 
paid in advance