Lyrics

there’s a brass band in the street
I swear it’s not in my head
won’t you come meet me
we’ll dance with the dead
it’s Sunday in Santiago
and the beat is real loud
we take it to our bones
it’s heard high up in the clouds

we find ourselves
in a dark and hallowed bar
there’s a priest in the corner
he strums a five string guitar
to the ramblers and seekers
and curious eyes
desperate to be seen
revealed from their disguise

I go back to the old home
where once I did live
faded pictures on the ground
I try hard to forgive
ten years have gone and went
yet the smell remains the same
mother’s just a memory
look what we became

I saw the devil in a dream
and he lived in a white house
fear was his only weapon
you could see through his doubt
so I looked him in the eye
and asked him to oblige
played him this song
and he sang along to my surprise

we witness the madness
as if we’re far beyond the crime
laughing at the sadness
we distance our own kind
there’s a story in our bones
that can’t go ignored
we’re more like our enemies
than we believed before