In the Dead of Night - Hugh Cornwell

A billion Indians, awake at dawn as I book my flight

In the dead of night

A thousand hungry dogs, are prowling, searching for a bite

In the dead of night

A hundred memories, lie undisturbed and out of sight

In the dead of night

I hear their voices cry, a family of crows who take to flight

In the dead of night

Wait, can you hear, a distant bell, that’s getting near

Its, getting loud, and a don’t like, the smell of fear

In the dead of night

In the dead of night

Wait, can you hear, a distant bell, that’s getting near

Its, getting loud, and a don’t like, the smell of fear

In the dead of night

In the dead of night

A swarm of blinded men, take turns to photograph their bly

In the dead of night

A flock of wayward sheep, are lost without a route in sight

In the dead of night

A band of sister pray, for help, against the men they fight

In the dead of night

One lonely man explains, to me why silence shows what’s right

In the dead of night

Wait, can you hear, a distant bell, that’s getting near

Its, getting loud, and a don’t like, the smell of fear

In the dead of night

In the dead of night

In the dead of night