Seventy-Four, Seventy-Five

Seventy-four Seventy-five He's getting used to it now How each one falls away in that hoary light And they are gone Gone from the age Gone from the guards and their hands It's no different today than years gone by But it won't come out alive With his hands so thin and white Gone Gone from the age Then he is gone from your eyes As that splintering wave takes so many lives And now your hands Gripping the edge of such a waste Where every angel looks dead Every face a lie And you won't come out tonight With your hands so thin and white Alive Seventy-four Seventy-five Daddy, come back to me now I would beat them away I would pull you out I would wash every cinder from your eyes And with silver and gold I would adorn you I'll let it all come out tonight When they peel me out alive Alive