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保罗威勒

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保罗威勒

Woodcutter's Son

Sugartown has turned so sour
Its people angry in their sleep
There's more small-town paranoia
Sweeping down its evil sheets -
You can tell it's witching hour
You can feel the spirits rise
When the room goes very quiet
And there's hatred in their eyes -

You better give me the chance
I'll cut you down with a glance
Yeh, with my small axe - so help me,
And tho' i'm only one
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And tho' weak i'm strong
And if it comes to the crunch
Then i'm the woodcutter's son

And i'm cutting down the wood for the
Good of everyone!

There's a silence when i enter
And a murmur when i leave
I can see their jealous faces
I can feel the ice they breathe