Seventy-Four, Seventy-Five

Seventy-four

Seventy-five

He's getting used to it now

How each one falls away in that hoary light

And they are gone

Gone from the age

Gone from the guards and their hands

It's no different today than years gone by

But it won't come out alive

With his hands so thin and white

Gone

Gone from the age

Then he is gone from your eyes

As that splintering wave takes so many lives

And now your hands

Gripping the edge of such a waste

Where every angel looks dead

Every face a lie

And you won't come out tonight

With your hands so thin and white

Alive

Seventy-four

Seventy-five

Daddy, come back to me now

I would beat them away

I would pull you out

I would wash every cinder from your eyes

And with silver and gold

I would adorn you

I'll let it all come out tonight

When they peel me out alive

Alive