Well, the Phantom Jets are coming
The land has turned to ash
Creatures whisper
Silver, all that's left
Sister crowned Anita
The smoke it burns my eyes
When wine spills dry
from blood on high
And then they too
and you began to cry.
Colder stones of warmer winters
In 1968
When shackles were
my burning fate
And then I too . . .
began to cry.
The land has turned to ash
Creatures whisper
Silver, all that's left
Sister crowned Anita
The smoke it burns my eyes
When wine spills dry
from blood on high
And then they too
and you began to cry.
Colder stones of warmer winters
In 1968
When shackles were
my burning fate
And then I too . . .
began to cry.
inviata da Alessandro - 14/11/2008 - 09:12
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From "We Say No To Your War!"
Words and music by AIC Jim Schaffer.
Back in his pre-Wagon days when Jim was into psychedelics, he wrote a song most people had trouble understanding and he found impossible to explain. When the smoke of the war burned his eyes, he saw things in a different way. He made a few changes in the lyrics, and it became "Phantom Jets are Coming."