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Van Der Graaf Generator
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Scorched Earth
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Corregir Letra Scorched Earth de Van Der Graaf Generator
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Letra actual de la canción
(Hammill - Jackson)<br /><br />Just one crazy moment while the dice are cast, <br />he looks into the future and remembers what is past, <br />wonders what he's doing on this battlefield, <br />shrugs to his shadow, impatient, too proud yet to kneel.<br /><br />In his wake he leaves scorched earth and work in vain; <br />smoke drifts up behind him - he is free again, <br />free to run before the onslaught of a deadly foe, <br />leaving nothing fit for pillage, hardly leaving home. <br />It's far too late to turn, unless it's to stone.<br /><br />Charging madly forward, tracks across the snow, <br />wind screams madness to him, ever on he goes <br />leaving spoor to mark his passage, trace his weary climb. <br />Cross the moor and make the headland - <br />stumbling, wayward, blind. <br />In the end his footprints extend as one single line. <br /><br />This latest exponent of heresy is goaded into an attack, <br />persuaded to charge at his enemy. <br />Too late, he knows it is, too late now to turn back, <br />too soon by far to falter. <br />The past sits uneasily at his rear, <br />he's walking right into the trap, <br />surrounded, but striving through will and fear. <br />Ahead of him he knows there waits an ambuscade <br />but the dice slip through his fingers <br />and he's living from day to day, <br />carrying his world around upon his back, <br />leaving nothing behind but the tell-tale of his track. <br /><br />He will not be hostage, he will not be slave, <br />no snare of past can trap him, though the future may. <br />Still he runs and burns behind him in advanced retreat; <br />still his life remains unfettered - he denies defeat. <br />It's far too late to turn, unless it's to stone. <br />Leave the past to burn - at least that's been his own. <br /><br />Scorched earth, that's all that's left when he's done; <br />holding nothing but beholden to no-one, <br />claiming nothing, out of no false pride, he survives. <br />Snow tracks are all that's left to be seen <br />of a man who entered the course of a dream, <br />claiming nothing but the life he's known <br />- this, at least, has been his own.
Letra nueva de la canción
(Hammill - Jackson)<br /><br />Just one crazy moment while the dice are cast, <br />he looks into the future and remembers what is past, <br />wonders what he's doing on this battlefield, <br />shrugs to his shadow, impatient, too proud yet to kneel.<br /><br />In his wake he leaves scorched earth and work in vain; <br />smoke drifts up behind him - he is free again, <br />free to run before the onslaught of a deadly foe, <br />leaving nothing fit for pillage, hardly leaving home. <br />It's far too late to turn, unless it's to stone.<br /><br />Charging madly forward, tracks across the snow, <br />wind screams madness to him, ever on he goes <br />leaving spoor to mark his passage, trace his weary climb. <br />Cross the moor and make the headland - <br />stumbling, wayward, blind. <br />In the end his footprints extend as one single line. <br /><br />This latest exponent of heresy is goaded into an attack, <br />persuaded to charge at his enemy. <br />Too late, he knows it is, too late now to turn back, <br />too soon by far to falter. <br />The past sits uneasily at his rear, <br />he's walking right into the trap, <br />surrounded, but striving through will and fear. <br />Ahead of him he knows there waits an ambuscade <br />but the dice slip through his fingers <br />and he's living from day to day, <br />carrying his world around upon his back, <br />leaving nothing behind but the tell-tale of his track. <br /><br />He will not be hostage, he will not be slave, <br />no snare of past can trap him, though the future may. <br />Still he runs and burns behind him in advanced retreat; <br />still his life remains unfettered - he denies defeat. <br />It's far too late to turn, unless it's to stone. <br />Leave the past to burn - at least that's been his own. <br /><br />Scorched earth, that's all that's left when he's done; <br />holding nothing but beholden to no-one, <br />claiming nothing, out of no false pride, he survives. <br />Snow tracks are all that's left to be seen <br />of a man who entered the course of a dream, <br />claiming nothing but the life he's known <br />- this, at least, has been his own.
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