Song | Trance Dance (A Dreamtime Walkabout) |
Artist | Skyclad |
Album | Wayward Sons of Mother Earth |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : English, Ramsey | |
Where the past meets the present we walk hand in hand, | |
Barefoot and naked--but kings of our land, | |
The souls of my forefathers course through my veins as | |
I watch the sun sink 'neath these ancestral plains. | |
Outcast in the outback--forgotten by time, | |
Lie the fragile remains of a world that was mine. | |
What money could not buy--the strong chose to steal, | |
To them power and riches were all that was real. | |
Then sold into slavery (iron-ore digger), | |
I am your 'abbo'--your lacky--your 'nigger.' | |
Awaken the neo-neanderthal man that sleeps within all of us touched by his hand, | |
He's the last grain of hope left unspoilt by our games--so tread soft in his footsteps and whisper his name. | |
A DREAMTIM | |
E WALKABOU | |
T--is all that remains of the past, | |
A DREAMTIM | |
E WALKABOU | |
T--the 'missing link' holds the chain fast. | |
Watch us skip the dark fantastic--silhouettes against the sky, | |
Bodies bathed in starlit twilight--high above our spirits fly. | |
Every picture tells a tale of hidden wisdom they have found, | |
Man is just a part of nature--not the other way around. | |
This 'savage' nobility rule without thrones, | |
And by birthright inherit things we'll never own. | |
Though progress encroaches--the last of their kind still reach from their bodies with prehensile minds. | |
We sons of the wilderness--unchained and free, | |
Cast our spirits to fly with the birds through the trees. (See a bloodline that extends from Genesis to fiery end). | |
Over bushland and billabong astral forms soar-- ' | |
Til the therms of our passion can bear us no more. (Its shadow cast upon the land still undefiled by human hand). | |
Unaware what you search for is already mine. | |
Awaken the neo-neanderthal man that sleeps within all of us touched by his hand, | |
He's the last grain of hope left unspoilt by our games--so tread soft in his footsteps and whisper his name. | |
A DREAMTIM | |
E WALKABOU | |
T--is all that remains of the past, | |
A DREAMTIM | |
E WALKABOU | |
T--the 'missing link' holds the chain fast. | |
As you cower in concrete boxes--sheltered from the light of day, | |
Pause a moment (stop and wonder)--who's most savage you or they? | |
Every picture tells a tale of hidden wisdom they have found, | |
Man is just a part of nature--not the other way around. |
zuo ci : English, Ramsey | |
Where the past meets the present we walk hand in hand, | |
Barefoot and nakedbut kings of our land, | |
The souls of my forefathers course through my veins as | |
I watch the sun sink ' neath these ancestral plains. | |
Outcast in the outbackforgotten by time, | |
Lie the fragile remains of a world that was mine. | |
What money could not buythe strong chose to steal, | |
To them power and riches were all that was real. | |
Then sold into slavery ironore digger, | |
I am your ' abbo' your lackyyour ' nigger.' | |
Awaken the neoneanderthal man that sleeps within all of us touched by his hand, | |
He' s the last grain of hope left unspoilt by our gamesso tread soft in his footsteps and whisper his name. | |
A DREAMTIM | |
E WALKABOU | |
Tis all that remains of the past, | |
A DREAMTIM | |
E WALKABOU | |
Tthe ' missing link' holds the chain fast. | |
Watch us skip the dark fantasticsilhouettes against the sky, | |
Bodies bathed in starlit twilighthigh above our spirits fly. | |
Every picture tells a tale of hidden wisdom they have found, | |
Man is just a part of naturenot the other way around. | |
This ' savage' nobility rule without thrones, | |
And by birthright inherit things we' ll never own. | |
Though progress encroachesthe last of their kind still reach from their bodies with prehensile minds. | |
We sons of the wildernessunchained and free, | |
Cast our spirits to fly with the birds through the trees. See a bloodline that extends from Genesis to fiery end. | |
Over bushland and billabong astral forms soar ' | |
Til the therms of our passion can bear us no more. Its shadow cast upon the land still undefiled by human hand. | |
Unaware what you search for is already mine. | |
Awaken the neoneanderthal man that sleeps within all of us touched by his hand, | |
He' s the last grain of hope left unspoilt by our gamesso tread soft in his footsteps and whisper his name. | |
A DREAMTIM | |
E WALKABOU | |
Tis all that remains of the past, | |
A DREAMTIM | |
E WALKABOU | |
Tthe ' missing link' holds the chain fast. | |
As you cower in concrete boxessheltered from the light of day, | |
Pause a moment stop and wonder who' s most savage you or they? | |
Every picture tells a tale of hidden wisdom they have found, | |
Man is just a part of naturenot the other way around. |
zuò cí : English, Ramsey | |
Where the past meets the present we walk hand in hand, | |
Barefoot and nakedbut kings of our land, | |
The souls of my forefathers course through my veins as | |
I watch the sun sink ' neath these ancestral plains. | |
Outcast in the outbackforgotten by time, | |
Lie the fragile remains of a world that was mine. | |
What money could not buythe strong chose to steal, | |
To them power and riches were all that was real. | |
Then sold into slavery ironore digger, | |
I am your ' abbo' your lackyyour ' nigger.' | |
Awaken the neoneanderthal man that sleeps within all of us touched by his hand, | |
He' s the last grain of hope left unspoilt by our gamesso tread soft in his footsteps and whisper his name. | |
A DREAMTIM | |
E WALKABOU | |
Tis all that remains of the past, | |
A DREAMTIM | |
E WALKABOU | |
Tthe ' missing link' holds the chain fast. | |
Watch us skip the dark fantasticsilhouettes against the sky, | |
Bodies bathed in starlit twilighthigh above our spirits fly. | |
Every picture tells a tale of hidden wisdom they have found, | |
Man is just a part of naturenot the other way around. | |
This ' savage' nobility rule without thrones, | |
And by birthright inherit things we' ll never own. | |
Though progress encroachesthe last of their kind still reach from their bodies with prehensile minds. | |
We sons of the wildernessunchained and free, | |
Cast our spirits to fly with the birds through the trees. See a bloodline that extends from Genesis to fiery end. | |
Over bushland and billabong astral forms soar ' | |
Til the therms of our passion can bear us no more. Its shadow cast upon the land still undefiled by human hand. | |
Unaware what you search for is already mine. | |
Awaken the neoneanderthal man that sleeps within all of us touched by his hand, | |
He' s the last grain of hope left unspoilt by our gamesso tread soft in his footsteps and whisper his name. | |
A DREAMTIM | |
E WALKABOU | |
Tis all that remains of the past, | |
A DREAMTIM | |
E WALKABOU | |
Tthe ' missing link' holds the chain fast. | |
As you cower in concrete boxessheltered from the light of day, | |
Pause a moment stop and wonder who' s most savage you or they? | |
Every picture tells a tale of hidden wisdom they have found, | |
Man is just a part of naturenot the other way around. |