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Among the headstones you played as boys |
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Crypts and tombs like a roomful of toys |
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Just up the river from a smoke and the noise |
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Gethsemane |
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And there's war-whoops and secret signs in the trees |
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Estuary smells coming up on the breeze |
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Oh, perfect endless days like these |
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Oh, Gethsemane, Gethsemane |
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Sailboat on the cadie, push bike on the quay |
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In your eyes there's fire, in your hand destiny |
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Oh, be something, be something fine, fine |
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Down the river, into the noise and the smoke |
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Being daring with the staring, uncaring folk |
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Laugh with you, laugh at you, you'll never get the joke |
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Gethsemane |
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And they broke your spirit there in the marines |
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And flushed your head down inside the latrines |
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Frozen in the sacrament, derailed in your teens |
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Never saw the enemy, oh, Gethsemane |
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And those bosses betrayed, soon let you go |
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The fire in your eyes, how could they know? |
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Oh, be something, be something fine, fine |
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Now you got your own boys hell bent for leather |
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Dead before they're 18, or bitter old men forever |
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They never saw the halo moon rise over the river |
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Of Gethsemane |
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Now there's a pain in your head, puts lead in your shoes |
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Better get it seen to, it's gonna be bad news |
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How did the perfect world get so confused? |
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Oh, Gethsemane, oh, Gethsemane |
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Who sucked out the freedom days without end? |
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Under the weight of it all you must bend |
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Oh, be something, be something fine |
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Be something, be something fine, fine, fine |
