I don't want to fall on the lame
I don't want to hurt their fathers
The Black Hut burns on the ridge everyday
You got to run away from that slaughter
And forget the beauty of the rains
It is beauty that moves us along
Into the gra** that strokes our graves
We shall be brave, we shall be gay
And stick a needle into the sun
I don't want to call out their name
I hear it in the rough and the heather
I'm standing at the edge of a valley and it's cold
The villagers? They hate me, but I know you are alone
So stick it in my heart and let me keep it safe and low
What a way to love: it is beauty that moves us along:
Into the gra** that strokes our graves, we shall be brave, we shall be gay
And stick a needle in the sun
I built the walls, and I built the walls...
[from liner notes]