Roger Waters When the Wind Blows Lyrics

TOWERS OF FAITH
(00:00 - 06:30)

The prophet reclined
On the Golan Heights

Ohhh, the lonely boys

He said, this land is my land
To the Shiites

Ooooh, the lonely boys

And Jehovah looked up from the sea of Galilee beneath
He said, I see you, you thief

This land is my land
And this sand is my sand
And this band is my band
Oh the lonely boys
Lookin' over their shoulder
Checkin out every boulder in the park
Where the gates are closed from hate
After dark

And the Pope rolled up in his armored van
He fell on his knees and kissed the land
He said something that I did not understand
It was in polish
Then up stepped an aide
He said, I will translate
Here is what His Holiness said:
'I am the Chief Jesuit.'
'This land is Jesus' land.'
'And that is all'
'All that there is to it.'
Hail Mary
Mother of God

And in New York City
The business man in his mohair suit
In the world trade center
Puffs on his cheroot
And he said,
Well I don't care who owns the desert sands
My brief
Is with the hydrocarbons underneath
And the sea of battle rages
Around the ancient tombs
And mother nature licks her wounds
And the lonely boys locked in their towers of faith
Who are nervous in the park
When the gates are closed after dark

Ooooh, the lonely boys
In their towers of faith
Ooooh, the lonely boys
Locked in their towers of faith

FOLDED FLAGS
(06:30 - 23:50)

Rock a bye baby
On the tree top
When the wind blows
The cradle will rock
Oh babe, hate to see you fall that way
Better speak to the powers that be today
Hey Joe, where you goin'
With that gun in your hand?
You can take your revenge
But you'll still feel bad
There must be more to life than lucky strikes
And some unlucky ones
And folded flags and pipes
And drums

I stood in the wings with you
Our lives in the hands of a second-rate actor
Holding the high ground
Of some old stage
Oh babe, how do these jaded stars get so far away
Will they catch what the moral had to say

Hey Joe, where you goin'
With that dogma in your head?
You can prove your point
But your kids will still be dead
Bring down the curtain
This soap opera must surely close
Before the cold wind blows

Hey Joe, where you going
With that gun in your hand
You can take your revenge
But you'll still feel bad
Bring down the curtain
This show must close
Before the cold wind blows

So rock a bye baby
On the tree top
When the wind blows
The cradle will rock
There must be more to life than lucky strikes
And some unlucky ones
And folded flags and pipes
And drums