David Berkeley Marie
A wounded town, where the winds won't blow*
The rain won't fall, but the clouds won't go
There's a fallen man hears a minor tune
There's an empty bed in an empty room
With the shudders closed and the fire low
The rains won't fall, but the stars won't glow
There's a lonely girl, and her dress is torn
A baby knows when her mother mourns
Oh Marie, it's not like me to fall apart
Oh Marie, it's not like me
A wounded town and the hill below
Rains won't fall, but the winds won't blow
Cause when a village turns into walls and woes
And a father's hands can't patch the holes
Oh Marie, it's not like me to fall apart
Oh Marie, it's not like me
The old church roof caved in long ago
But its bell still rings, so sad and slow
Cause when a body burns into smoke and soul
And a father's hands can't patch these holes
No a father's hands can't patch these holes
Oh Marie, it's not like me to fall apart
Oh Marie, it's not like me
Oh Marie, it's not like me to fall apart
Oh Marie, it's not like me
Oh Marie, it's not like me
