Déjà Vu Roger Waters
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Déjà Vu" by Roger Waters. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Verse 1]
If I had been God, I would have rearranged the veins
In the face to make them more resistant
To alcohol and less prone to aging
If I had been God
I would have sired many sons and I would not have suffered
The Romans to kill even one of them
If I had been God with my staff and my rod
If I had been given the nod
I believe I could have done a better job
[Verse 2]
And if I were a drone
Patrolling foreign skies
With my electronic eyes for guidance
And the element of surprise
I would be afraid
To find someone home
Maybe a woman at a stove
Baking bread, making rice
Or just boiling down some bones
If I were a drone
[Verse 3]
The temple's in ruins, the bankers get fat
The buffalo's gone, and the mountain top's flat
The trout in the streams are all hermaphrodites
You lean to the left but you vote to the right
And it feels like déjà vu, the Sun goes down and I'm still missing you
Counting the cost of love that got lost
And under my Gulf Stream, in circular pools
There's ninety-nine cents worth of drunkards and fools
If I had been God, I would have rearranged the veins
In the face to make them more resistant
To alcohol and less prone to aging
If I had been God
I would have sired many sons and I would not have suffered
The Romans to kill even one of them
If I had been God with my staff and my rod
If I had been given the nod
I believe I could have done a better job
[Verse 2]
And if I were a drone
Patrolling foreign skies
With my electronic eyes for guidance
And the element of surprise
I would be afraid
To find someone home
Maybe a woman at a stove
Baking bread, making rice
Or just boiling down some bones
If I were a drone
[Verse 3]
The temple's in ruins, the bankers get fat
The buffalo's gone, and the mountain top's flat
The trout in the streams are all hermaphrodites
You lean to the left but you vote to the right
And it feels like déjà vu, the Sun goes down and I'm still missing you
Counting the cost of love that got lost
And under my Gulf Stream, in circular pools
There's ninety-nine cents worth of drunkards and fools
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