Swing Low

(álbum: B-Sides & Rarities - 2005)

How is little Thomas Magee?
Thomas Magee, he swallowed a key
Did he die, little Thomas Magee?
Holly, Holly, just let him be
He's wiser now, little Thomas Magee
Called this cat on a telephone
Heart was beating in my chest
I'd eaten something I could not digest
And the phone kept ringing
There's no-one home

Ran to his house, rapped on the window
Ooh blood was pumping much too fast
Stuck my fingers through the glass
Strange music playing on the radio
Swing low, swing low
Swing low, swing low
Way down low and carry me home

Pray like Peter, preach like Paul
Jesus died to save us all
I climbed through the window
I crawled on the floor
I ripped up all the furniture
But I still couldn't find what I was looking for

Problems that we claim as our own
Cannot be solved, they must be outgrown
The bottomless knowledge that cannot be known
The empty ring on the telephone
And the strange music playing on the radio
Swing low, swing low
Swing low, swing low
Yea way down low and carry me home
Where do you go?
Where do you go?
Swing low, baby, save my soul
Where do you go?
Where do you go?
Swing low, baby, save my soul
Swing low, swing low
Swing low, swing low
Swing low, swing low
Swing low, swing low