Of the far distant spring
Or a bed full of hens
Or the ghost of a friend
All the while that she wept
She had a gun by her bed
And a letter he wrote
From a dry, foundered boat
And the train track will take
All the wounded ones home
And I'll be alone
Fare thee well Sara Jones
Now we lie on the floor
While the radio war
Finds it's way through the air
Of the dead market square
And the beast never seen
Licks it's red talons clean
Sara curses the cold
"No more snow, no more snow, no more snow"
Did the wine make her dream Of the far distant spring Or a bed full of hens Or the ghost of a friend All the while that she wept She had a gun by her bed And a letter he wrote From a dry, foundered boat And the train track will take All the wounded ones home And I'll be alone Fare thee well Sara Jones Now we lie on the floor While the radio war Finds it's way through the air Of the dead market square And the beast never seen Licks it's red talons clean Sara curses the cold "No more snow, no more snow, no more snow" Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/i/iron_wine/radio_war.html
