December
Monday 3 November 2008 photo 1/2
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There is a house in New Orleans, they call the Superdome
It's been the ruin of many a poor boy, and God, I know I'm one.
I cried to my daddy on the telephone,
how long now?
Until the clouds unroll and you come home,
the line went.
But the shadows still remain since your descent,
your descent.
The saints are coming, the saints are coming.
I say no matter how I try, I realise there's no reply.
The saints are coming, the saints are coming.
I say no matter how I try, I realise there's no reply.
It's been the ruin of many a poor boy, and God, I know I'm one.
I cried to my daddy on the telephone,
how long now?
Until the clouds unroll and you come home,
the line went.
But the shadows still remain since your descent,
your descent.
The saints are coming, the saints are coming.
I say no matter how I try, I realise there's no reply.
The saints are coming, the saints are coming.
I say no matter how I try, I realise there's no reply.
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