hawksley workman
the future language of slaves
Come over here Whisper into my ear Don't waste your breath On anyone else But me.  And warm Your body in bed Let us wake up and talk a while I tell you I'm scared I tell you I'd fight for Us both But you come from the town Where Gandhi was born And you say I always talk tough When I get drunk So why don't we pray Whispering the Future language of slaves  I should rejoice Maybe give voice to a song For what brought me here to your arms Into our painfully true love And god maybe close God only knows Really to say. And what would we do in our last moments In time. Would we make love Or make haste to a mobile phone Or would we break bread Drink the blood that is shed And pray to our god Whispering the Future language of slaves    