Sean Nicholas Savage Movin Up In Society Lyrics
Movin Up In Society by Sean Nicholas Savage
A sea angel meanderin' the bottom, sailin' free on the watery breeze
With no will to be sailin' any higher and no lift from the bottom of the
Sea.
One dead day when the roof came very shallow and sunlight came'a burnin
Inside.
A sea angel meanderin' the bottom, washed ashore with the litter and died.
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you start at the bottom.
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you're born in the trash.
"On the dune I would do a little ditty with my sails full of dally and
Play.
Then one day came a glorious illusion; through the fog came a beacon of the
Bay.
With my mind in a hurry and a fluster, I sailed up to the glorious light,
Where the gold and the glamour of the city cast me down to my family life"
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you start at the bottom.
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you're born in the trash.
In the dark and the bluest of dead, laid her dreams on a funeral bed.
Gold and glam in her windy memoria while she sailed for the family she fed.
From the docks and the windows of the harbour, laughter shone in the watery
Sky.
'Bove the old memoria of an angel whose high hopes only taught her to cry.
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you start at the bottom.
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you're born in the trash.
"A sea ghost in the belly of the bay; I would roam in my hunger and pain;
On the drift for a diamond or a jewel that may shine all my worry away.
In my heart was the dire drum beat of my dream so important to me;
Twirlin' dead on a vision of a heaven; drummin' don't get you anything to
Eat."
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you start at the bottom.
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you're born in the trash.
Hung in tents in the alley of the market; sun dried fish by the hundred
Each day;
Swallowed up by the belly of the big dream, where their sunlight and sails
Now lay.
On the wind of a harbourous night you may see many sailors in stride;
Over angels meanderin' the bottom, sailin' free on the glorious night.
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you start at the bottom.
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you're born in the trash.
With no will to be sailin' any higher and no lift from the bottom of the
Sea.
One dead day when the roof came very shallow and sunlight came'a burnin
Inside.
A sea angel meanderin' the bottom, washed ashore with the litter and died.
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you start at the bottom.
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you're born in the trash.
"On the dune I would do a little ditty with my sails full of dally and
Play.
Then one day came a glorious illusion; through the fog came a beacon of the
Bay.
With my mind in a hurry and a fluster, I sailed up to the glorious light,
Where the gold and the glamour of the city cast me down to my family life"
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you start at the bottom.
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you're born in the trash.
In the dark and the bluest of dead, laid her dreams on a funeral bed.
Gold and glam in her windy memoria while she sailed for the family she fed.
From the docks and the windows of the harbour, laughter shone in the watery
Sky.
'Bove the old memoria of an angel whose high hopes only taught her to cry.
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you start at the bottom.
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you're born in the trash.
"A sea ghost in the belly of the bay; I would roam in my hunger and pain;
On the drift for a diamond or a jewel that may shine all my worry away.
In my heart was the dire drum beat of my dream so important to me;
Twirlin' dead on a vision of a heaven; drummin' don't get you anything to
Eat."
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you start at the bottom.
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you're born in the trash.
Hung in tents in the alley of the market; sun dried fish by the hundred
Each day;
Swallowed up by the belly of the big dream, where their sunlight and sails
Now lay.
On the wind of a harbourous night you may see many sailors in stride;
Over angels meanderin' the bottom, sailin' free on the glorious night.
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you start at the bottom.
Movin' up, movin' up in society can be hard when you're born in the trash.