© Nicola Gemignani
All right reserved included cover image
please contact me if you want collaborate on this project.

Lyrics


The dead go, inside the black wagon,
encrusted with his funereal gold flagon.

With the gait, 
slow pace of horses: 
and often the band, plays for norses.

As they pass, the women rush in,
to close the windows of their plush in

The shops close: barely a glimmer,
to look at the grief of relatives dimmer.

[Choir]
at the number of friends, behind,
at the class of the wagon, just rely,
(at the number of friends, behind,
at the class of the wagon, just rely,)

This is how the dead go, in my land;
windows and doors, closed in disneyland.
 
please move on begging you, 
to forget the busy women in the tube

the shopkeeper who weighs and steals,
the child who plays and beals.

the living eyes that swarm
behind the deception of closed farm.

[Choir]
at the number of friends, behind,
at the class of the wagon, just rely,
(at the number of friends, behind,
at the class of the wagon, just rely,)

The Dead Go

Street King Sound

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