"Needle Of Death" lyrics
(originally by Bert Jansch)
When sadness fills your heart
Sorrow hides the longing to be free
When things go wrong with each day
You fix your mind to escape your misery
Your troubled young life
Had made you turn
To the needle of death
How strange, your happy words
Have ceased to bring a smile from everyone
How tears have filled the eyes
Of friends that you once walked among
Your troubled young life
Had made you turn
To the needle of death
One grain of pure white snow
Dissolved in blood spread quickly to your brain
In peace your mind withdraws
Your death so near your soul can't feel no pain
Your troubled young life
Has made you turn
To the needle of death
Your mother stands a-cryin'
While to the earth your body's slowly cast
Your father stands in silence
Caressing every young dream of the past
And your troubled young life
Had made you turn
To the needle of death
Through ages, man's desires
To free his mind, to releive his very soul
Has proved to all who live
That death itself is freedom for evermore
And your troubled young life
Might make you turn
To the needle of death
And your troubled young life
Had make you turn
To the needle of death
Sorrow hides the longing to be free
When things go wrong with each day
You fix your mind to escape your misery
Your troubled young life
Had made you turn
To the needle of death
How strange, your happy words
Have ceased to bring a smile from everyone
How tears have filled the eyes
Of friends that you once walked among
Your troubled young life
Had made you turn
To the needle of death
One grain of pure white snow
Dissolved in blood spread quickly to your brain
In peace your mind withdraws
Your death so near your soul can't feel no pain
Your troubled young life
Has made you turn
To the needle of death
Your mother stands a-cryin'
While to the earth your body's slowly cast
Your father stands in silence
Caressing every young dream of the past
And your troubled young life
Had made you turn
To the needle of death
Through ages, man's desires
To free his mind, to releive his very soul
Has proved to all who live
That death itself is freedom for evermore
And your troubled young life
Might make you turn
To the needle of death
And your troubled young life
Had make you turn
To the needle of death
Writer(s): Bert Jansch
