The Dead Of The Night - Shawn Colvin

    It is the dead of the night
    Oh the dead of the night
    I live on a dream, it came to me
    When I was young
    I brought it here, and now for years
    The streets of London keep it safe and warm
    Every morning it dies and it is reborn
    In the dead of the night

    I keep a pencil and a book
    I say this is how a life can look
    Russian roulette, French-kissed cigarette
    And the silence like an anvil
    The things that you learn, but now all that burns
    Is a candle
    And the fog melts over the night, and
    it softens the edges
    I begin to write in the dead of the night

    A bead of sweat runs down my arm
    And I drink it from my skin
    It is the most real thing that I feel
    It is communion
    Bless the meek
    Heal the sick
    Protect the weak
    In the dead of the night

    Marco Giunco
    Work Basket Music Words