Jeff Buckley Follow

And his voice still was heard
On the weak second album
And difficult third
Then the critics, who broke him,
He couldn't forgive -
Would grow old and forget him
If Jeff Buckley had lived

And there's a fog growing at the edge of the lake
And there's a star falling at the edge of the lake
And there's a man praying at the edge of the lake
And there's a flicker of religion in the chances you take

If Jeff Buckley had lived
There'd have been weeks of sickness
Acid vomit in his throat
And awful press pictures.
He'd have turned down half the needy
Who asked him to give
And plenty would have cursed him
If Jeff Buckley had lived

And there's a fog growing at the edge of the lake
And there's a star falling at the edge of the lake
And there's a man praying at the edge of the lake
And there's a flicker of religion in the chances you take

If Jeff Buckley had lived
He'd have been short on the throne
And counted his life out
In an old rockstar's home
Where they play 'Hallelujah'
Every retrospective
And most wouldn't know him
If Jeff Buckley had lived

And there's a fog growing at the edge of the lake
And there's a star falling at the edge of the lake
And there's a man praying at the edge of the lake
And there's a flicker of religion in the chances you take

And there is no salvation at the hands of the fates
And there is no design to whom death comes to take
And the faces in the vapour, they are lies and mistakes
Every day there is a fog there, at the edge of the lake
Every day there is a fog three, at the edge of the lake.

And his voice still was heard
On the weak second album