@migu music@

In The Court of Conscience - Beau

With the cold eye of the soldier and

The cold hand of the surgeon and

The cold and calculating mind of

Someone from intelligence

I walk along the city street

Assassinating all I meet

My crumpled uniform once neat

Is now in disarray

Breezes blow my hair at will

Their wayward passage to fulfil

But they can never pierce the heart

And kill the way a deftly wielded

Knife or yet a sharpened barb

Well turned and twisted can succeed

For words will never make you bleed

But only fade away

I found this weakness in the heart

Remorselessly tore it apart

But that was when my uniform

Was smart and pretty in the glittering springlight

When my words so clear

Fell curdling the bitter beer

And dripped into the waiting ear

'Til silence ruled that day

And when the slaughter was complete

Another fool had found defeat

And still my hands were soft and

Even sweet inside the glove that played

The drumsticks on the soft and kind

It took the military mind

To sentence silence as the blind

Went tapping on their way