Testo The garden of allah Henley

The garden of allah

It was a pretty big year for fashion
A lousy year for rock and roll
The people gave their blessing to crimes of passion
It was a dark, dark night of the collective soul
I was somewhere out on Riverside
By the El Royale Hotel
When a stranger appeared in a cloud of smoke
I thought I knew him all too well

He said, “Now that I have your attention
I got somethin’ I wanna say
You may not want to hear it
I’m gonna tell it to you anyway
You know, I’ve always liked you, boy
‘Cause you were not afraid of me
But things are gonna get mighty rough
Here in Gomorrah-By-The-Sea”

He said, “It’s just like home
It’s so damned hot, I can’t stand it
My fine seersucker suit is all soakin’ wet”

And the hills are burning
The wind is raging
And the clock strikes midnight
In the Garden of Allah

“Nice car……
I love those Barvarians…….so meticulous
Y’know, I remember a time when things were a lot more fun around here
When good was good, and evil was evil
Before things got so………fuzzy
Yeah, I was once a golden boy like you
I was summoned to the halls of power in the heavenly court
And I dined with the deities who looked upon me with favor
For my talents; my creativity
We sat beneath the palms in the warm afternoons
And drank the wine with Fitzgerald and Huxley

They pawned a biting phrase
From tongues hot with blood
And drained their pens of bitter ink
Vainly reaching for the bottle full of empty Edens
Branded specially for the ones
Who had come with great expectations
To the perfumed halls of Allah
For their time in the sun

We were stokin’ the fires
And oilin’ up the machinery
Until the gods found out we had ideas of our own”

And the war was coming
The earth was shaking
And there was no more room
In the Garden of Allah

“Today I made and appearance downtown
I am an expert witness, because I say I am
And I said, ‘Gentlemen….and I use that word loosely…
I will testify for you
I’m a gun for hire, I’m a saint, I’m a liar
Because there are no facts, there is no truth
Just data to be manipulated
I can get you any result you like
What’s it worth to ya?
Because there is no wrong, there is no right
And I sleep very well at night
No shame, no solution
No remorse, no retribution
Just people selling t-shirts
Just opportunity to participate in the pathetic little circus
And winning, winning, winning’ “

It was a pretty big year for predators
The marketplace was on a roll
And the land of opportunity
Spawned a whole new breed of men without souls
This year, notoriety got all confused with fame
And the devil is downhearted
Because there’s nothing left for him to claim

He said, “It’s just like home
It’s so low-down, I can’t stand it
I guess my work around here has all been done”

And the fruit is rotten
The serpent’s eyes shine
As he wraps around the vine
In the Garden of Allah