"Jerusalem" c 1984 LTOS
The Cats of Jerusalem
Are varied and many.
You search for their masters.
But they haven't any.
They climb on the dumpster,
In the hot mid east sun.
And melt into shadows,
When day is done.
We feel ghosts all around.
We are on holy ground.
Jerusalem, it's something you can feel,
Jerusalem, and I can tell you that it's real.
Overwhelmed by the flood,
of centuries of blood,
And waiting for the opening of the Seventh Seal.
The alleys of Jerusalem,
On a hot, smokey morning.
Old men play backgammon
beneath a grey awning.
Kids with machine guns,
Sit high on the wall.
They don't seem to notice us,
Or they don't cvare at all.
We feel ghosts all around.
We are on holy ground.
Jerusalem, it's something you can feel,
Jerusalem, and I can tell you that it's real.
Overwhelmed by the flood,
of centuries of blood,
And waiting for the opening of the Seventh Seal.
The spires of churches,
And high minarets,
Turn their backs on each other,
As the hazy sun sets,
The streets empty quickly,leaving blank, stony faces
Until the dawn.
We feel ghosts all around.
We are on holy ground.
Jerusalem, it's something you can feel,
Jerusalem, and I can tell you that it's real.
Overwhelmed by the flood,
of centuries of blood,
And waiting for the opening of the Seventh Seal.