a Singer of Songs and Withered Hand - Santa Cova

At Pamplona we lost more than our horses
I lost my legs to the cannonballs
Is this the way they try to slow a good man down
You could never put my spirit in the ground
I was a broken down body with a lion’s heart
Spending too much time seeking in the dark
Counting years in the scales of a serpent’s tail
Oh righteous unbeliever
Follow me

Up at the Santa Cova
I left my devil laying in the shade
Lit a candle for the Black Madonna
I believed
Up at the Santa Cova
I left my devils laying in the shade
Lit a candle for the Black Madonna

I am alive

I do not want what i do not have
Counting wildflowers growing on the stony path
Dedicating prayers to pilgrims and the animals
Little children, cannonballs
When I was giving up my sword for the life of the lord
I heard a rumour coming down the line
A good intention is its own reward
Some people have a holy book but only read the spine
Not me

Singing I am alive

Written by:
Dan Willson, a Singer of Songs

Publisher:
Lyrics © ROUGH TRADE PUBLISHING

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