Besedila: The Nightwatchman. The Garden Of Gethsemane.

On the side of the dirt road, an old Chevy wreck
I climbed through the window, I sat in the back
I gathered my thoughts with my head in my hands
My next of kin, my list of demands

I slipped from shadow to shadow
I saw things I should not see
The moon rose high over the garden
The garden of Gethsemane

I know who I'm for and who I'm against
I pulled the shades tight, I built me a fence
I dug a tunnel, tunnel deep and wide
I sit at the bottom and wait for the night

I slipped from shadow to shadow
I saw things I should not see
The moon rose high over the garden
The garden of Gethsemane

Morning has come, clean clothes on the line
There'll be no tomorrow, I rise and I shine
If you swallow the coin from the wishing well
Your dreams will come true in heaven or hell

I slipped from shadow to shadow
I saw things I should not see
The moon rose high over the garden
The garden of Gethsemane

Take my hand, down we go
Take my hand, love, down we go
Take my hand, down we go
Take my hand, love, down we go