sacred objects - peter blegvad and andy partridge lyrics
first thing in the morning
last thing at night
sacred objects
come to light
sacred objects
once were rare
now you find them
everywhere
john henry’s hammer
all painted red
a loaded pistol
an empty bed
a cement mixer
a walking cane
the arrow on
a weather vane
a tired bird
flying south
sounds come from
its open mouth
yeah, sing it, tired bird!
a tired bird
to rest its wings
perches on one
of the sacred things
the light inside them
both is such
that nothing happens
when they touch
nothing happens
when it does
it’s almost like something
never was
the light inside them
both goes out
and where they were
is now in doubt
no more is seen
no more is heard
of its sacred perch
or the tired bird
a veil of silence
now descends
and like all stories
this one ends
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