Big Country
Lost Patrol
We lay the night in anguish, snakes drawn out by the tideThe compass of decision falls always on one sideBut many went before us, and still the cries are clearThere is no beauty here, just the stench of wine and beerWe save no soulsWe break no promisesWe can do nothing more than move on headlong through the gloomThe thorn between our lips is the missionaries tuneMen with open arms turn their faces half awayObserve as we approach that we have not come to saveWe stand as thick as vines though the fruit is torn awayThere is no beauty here, friends, just death and dark decayWe save no soulsWe break no promises
From Letras Mania