''I wander in the night without direction. 

So I'll continue to continue to pretend 
My life will never end,''







"So I'll continue to continue to pretend 
My life will never end"





Through the corridors of sleep 
Past the shadows dark and deep 
My mind dances and leaps in confusion. 
I don't know what is real, 
I can't touch what I feel 
And I hide behind the shield of my illusion. 

So I'll continue to continue to pretend 
My life will never end, 
And flowers never bend 
With the rainfall. 
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsfreak.com/s/simon+and+garfunkel/flowers+never+bend+with+the+rainfall_20124734.html ]
The mirror on my wall 
Casts an image dark and small 
But I'm not sure at all it's my reflection. 
I am blinded by the light 
Of God and truth and right 
And I wander in the night without direction. 

So I'll continue to continue to pretend 
My life will never end, 
And flowers never bend 
With the rainfall. 

It's no matter if you're born 
To play the King or pawn 
For the line is thinly drawn 'tween joy and sorrow, 
So my fantasy 
Becomes reality, 
And I must be what I must be and face tomorrow. 

So I'll continue to continue to pretend 
My life will never end, 
And flowers never bend 
With the rainfall.

And a crowd of young boys they're fooling around in the corner
Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a damn about any trumpet playing band
It ain't what they call rock and roll







You get a shiver in the dark
It's raining in the park but meantime
South of the river you stop and you hold everything







You get a shiver in the dark
It's raining in the park but meantime
South of the river you stop and you hold everything
A band is blowing Dixie double four time
You feel all right when you hear that music ring

Well now you step inside but you don't see too many faces
Coming in out of the rain to hear the jazz go down
Competition in other places
But the horns, they blowing that sound

Way on down south
Way on down south in London town

You check out Guitar George, he knows all the chords
But it's strictly rhythm he doesn't want to make it cry or sing
Yes then an old guitar is all he can afford
When he gets up under the lights to play his thing

And Harry doesn't mind if he doesn't make the scene
[ From: http://www.elyrics.net/read/d/dire-straits-lyrics/sultans-of-swing-lyrics.html]
He's got a daytime job, he's doing alright
He can play the honky tonk like anything
Saving it up for Friday night

With the Sultans
With the Sultans of Swing

And a crowd of young boys they're fooling around in the corner
Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a damn about any trumpet playing band
It ain't what they call rock and roll

And the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans played Creole, Creole

Then the man, he steps right up to the microphone
And says at last just as the time bell rings
"Goodnight, now it's time to go home"
And he makes it fast with one more thing

"We are the Sultans
We are the Sultans of Swing"

People, don't you understand 
the child needs a helping hand






Take a look at you and me, 
are we too blind to see, 
do we simply turn our heads 
and look the other way







As the snow flies 
On a cold and gray Chicago mornin' 
A poor little baby child is born 
In the ghetto 
And his mama cries 
'cause if there's one thing that she don't need 
it's another hungry mouth to feed 
In the ghetto 

People, don't you understand 
the child needs a helping hand 
or he'll grow to be an angry young man some day 
Take a look at you and me, 
are we too blind to see, 
do we simply turn our heads 
and look the other way 

Well the world turns 
and a hungry little boy with a runny nose 
plays in the street as the cold wind blows 
In the ghetto 

And his hunger burns 
so he starts to roam the streets at night 
and he learns how to steal 
and he learns how to fight 
In the ghetto 

Then one night in desperation 
a young man breaks away 
He buys a gun, steals a car, 
tries to run, but he don't get far 
And his mama cries 

As a crowd gathers 'round an angry young man 
face down on the street with a gun in his hand 
In the ghetto 

As her young man dies, 
on a cold and gray Chicago mornin', 
another little baby child is born 
In the ghetto

you can't get another try 
Something inside this heart has died






Does the pain weigh out the pride?