Call it superstition Followed and fell Under the falling Under the spell Singing Bury me Bury me Spoken in tongues Of many colours In the colours of heaven In the colours of hell In the cannot Would not tell In the broken temple bells In the ringing Oh, Marian I can hear those voices singing Bury me Inside Lie beside and Bury Me Deep Unsold Untold Cover me over Unsung Unsaid Not borrowed, broken and torn On the bed tomorrow, mourning Before you sleep Bury me deep Bury me Inside Lie beside and Bury me, bury me, bury me, bury me deep
Living as an angel in the Place that I was born Living on air Living in heaven Giving the lie down, the line To the Theres my heaven
And I know Which way the wind blows In nineteen fifty-nine
Which way the wind blows In nineteen fifty-nine
And the wind blows still And the wind blows wild again For a little child an never kill this clean This way And it feels like me today Tell me Do you feel the same? Isabelle? Or do you feel like nineteen fifty-nine? ...do you feel like nineteen fifty-nine?