I could trace it back
Your arms gone heavy
With a question asked
We shared a memory
I saw what you were hiding
So I told you the truth
But we spoke with silence
As if you couldn’t keep the proof
You called amen
From the living room
Made the air go muddy
All that violence
For what you couldn’t do
In the end we’ll both be running
With the day gone west
You took to old streets
To calm your banging chest
And send your veins to sleep
When you saw tears in my eyes
You reared your other head
Took your shot in the dark
And hoped your hurt would hit my glance
You called amen
from the living room
Made the air go muddy
All that violence
For what you couldn’t do
In the end we’ll both be running
You called amen
from the living room
Made the air go muddy
All that violence
For what you couldn’t do
In the end we’ll both be running
Dearest Arooj, firstly thank you. My brother died this year n what can be said about such loss n sadness. I saw n heard you at The end of the Road in England. I spent many years in India n love all the music, poetry of your heritage. Thankyou Arooj❤️ ben1769
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