Tema: Mike Oldfield - Tekstovi Pesama

The Time Has Come



A thousand years they waited for
someone who would be true
and now the empty years have passed
the sunlight shines anew
Chorus
Someone who knows no fear
I feel him near
The child was born to be a king, a king,
And The Time Has Come
He tamed the wild wind when he passed

the birds and beasts he knew
until he came to rest at last
the tall gates he passed through
Bridge Chorus
And now the story's just begun
A thousand years to stay
We wake each morning with the sun
To live our dreams away
Bridge Chorus

Shadow On The Wall



Shadow on the wall
Shadow on the wall
Shadow on the wall
Shadow on the wall
Like a shadow on the wall

Treat me like a prisoner
Treat me like a fool
Treat me like a loser
Use me as a tool
Face me till I'm hungry
Push me in the cold
Treat me like a criminal
Just a shadow on the wall

Shadow on the wall
Shadow on the wall
Shadow on the wall
Shadow on the wall
Like a shadow on the wall

Treat me like I'm evil
Freeze me till I'm cold
Beat me till I'm feeble

Grab me till I'm old
Fry me till I'm tired
Push me till I fall
Treat me like a criminal
Just a shadow on the wall

Shadow on the wall
Shadow on the wall
Shadow on the wall
Shadow on the wall
Like a shadow on the wall

Shadow on the wall
Shadow on the wall
Like a shadow on the wall
Shadow on the wall
Shadow on the wall
Like a shadow on the wall
Shadow on the wall
Shadow on the wall
Like a shadow on the wall
Shadow on the wall
Shadow on the wall

To France


Taking on water
sailing a restless sea from a memory
a fantasy.
The wind carries into white water

Far from the islands
don't you know you're
Never going to get to France. Mary Queen of chance will they find you.
Never going to get to France
could a new romance ever bind you.
Walking on foreign grounds like a shadow

Roaming in far off territory over your shoulder stories unfold

Your searching for sanctuary
you know you're
Never going to get to France. Mary Oueen of chance will they find you. . . .

I see a picture by the lamps flicker

Isn't it strange how dreams fade and shimmer.
Never going to get to France. Mary Queen of chance will they find you. . . .
I see a picture by the lamps flicker
. . .
Never going to get to France. Mary Queen of chance will they find you. . . .
Never going to get to France. Mary Queen of chance will they find you. . . .
Never going to get to France. Mary Queen of chance will they find you. . . .