"The Glorious Dead" lyrics - JOE HENRY

The bells at St. Martin's heave and moan, rolling like an army down the hill
Horses guard the gates like sweating stone where the glorious dead just can't keep still

She hikes her gown then moves, now everything is news:
Returning time, refusing all I know
But lifts my eyes

Standing by the strong arm of the sea
Desire waving out from ship to shore
The fallen day has made quick work of me, the rising moon still asking something more

The queen rides by, a great hat on her head, she waves as if she wants to draw me near
Flowers fly like flags above the dead,
And fill the sky like every rising cheer

Well, once I laid my finger to your lips like they were a Bible writ in Braille
And might be moved to let a secret slip, might be open to the twisting of the tale