Paul Simon. 1964-1993. The Cool, Cool River. Zeneszám

Moves like a fist through the traffic
Anger and no one can heal it
Shoves a little bump into the momentum
It's just a little lump but you feel it, in the

In the creases and the shadows
With a rattling deep emotion
The cool, cool river
Sweeps the wild, white ocean

Yes Boss, the government handshake
Yes Boss, the crusher of language
Yes Boss, Mr. Stillwater
The face at the edge of the banquet

The cool, the cool river
The cool, the cool river

I believe in the future
I may live in my car
My radio tuned to
The voice of a star

Song dogs barking at the break of dawn
Lightning pushes the edge of a thunderstorm
And these old hopes and fears
Still at my side

Anger and no one can heal it
Slides through the metal detector
Lives like a mole in a motel
A slide in a slide projector

The cool, cool river
Sweeps the wild, white ocean
The rage, the rage of love turns inward
To prayers of devotion

These prayers are the constant road across the wilderness
These prayers are
These prayers are the memory of God
The memory of God

I believe in the future
We shall suffer no more
Maybe not in my lifetime
But in yours I feel sure

Song dogs barking at the break of dawn
Lightning pushes the edges of a thunderstorm
And these streets, quiet as a sleeping army
Send their battered dreams to Heaven

To Heaven
For the mother's restless son
Who is a witness to, who is a warrior
Who denies his urge to break and run

Who says, "Hard times? I'm used to them
The speeding planet burns, I'm used to that
My life's so common it disappears
And sometimes even music cannot substitute for tears