| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 3:10 | 
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That token drag on your cigarette,
That well-known face in the fire, It could be someone you can't forget, Someone you've learnt to admire. And it's strange How the feeling goes; All change - Down the river Ophelia goes. You're treading water, the price is steep, You say you'll cope with it all; You've made some promises you can't keep, You throw yourself against the wall, You throw yourself against the wall. And it's strange... You heard a noise in the firegrate, You look to see who goes there - It's just the stranger, he's come too late And even he's unprepared To find the cupboard so bare And it's strange... Down the river Ophelia goes. |
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| 2. |
| 4:15 |
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Turn a card, turn a page,
the action sure to start, second-stage reaction to illogical thoughts on random lines ? in a Borges dream we move toward the writing of lives. Leave it out, leave it in, no edits ? with a shout, with a grin I said it was a certainty that I'd arrive in an Escher sketch we walk around the drawing of lines. The character uncertainty as he contemplates his lot and tries to move with urgency though he's rooted to the spot. On the brink, on the edge, but lately what I think, what I said escapes me in a flash, a tiger burning bright ? does the visionary trance obscure the burgeoning night? And she said "What are you doing?" And he said "What do you think?" Oh, no, what on earth are we doing? The characters procrastinate on the threshold of the door; there's something here that fascinates, though the meaning's still unsure and the plot so thick. Is it some kind of history? Sketch the thumbnail to the quick. Oh, even though it's full of contradiction, though it's flawed in the design this is no fiction, it's a lifeline. Here we are, there we went, full circle, shooting stars, heaven-sent, turned turtle on the beach our shells are left behind life a library, like a memory of our ghost-written lives. |
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| 3. |
| 4:16 |
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He made a bit of money,
that's something you might like to know... He'll be drinking in the cafe on the corner after the show. He's been so many people, he wore them all like poisoned vests, still playing the soliloquy from Hamlet close to his chest. Where do the actors go after the show? Where do the actors go? He had his hour of glory, that's something you should keep in mind... When he's drinking in the cafe on the corner there's no sense of time, just waiting on for Godot, convinced he's been here years before... he's taken that philosophy in German square on the jaw. Where do the actors go after the show? Where do the actors go? He made a bit of money, that's something you might like to know; he'll be drinking in the cafe on the corner after the show. Where do the actors go after the show? Where do the actors go? |
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| 4. |
| 4:54 |
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Stranger still in another town,
How normal to sit out the dance, Eating the good meal by myself, Toasting the empty glass; And they're already setting out The next place, Already forgetting about the last. No, nothing could be less strange In entropy No change, no change, no change. No danger in a normal life, Better steady down the adrenalin pump. Excess refraction in the mirror Only leads to the quantum jump Oh, but it leaves me in limbo; How strange, what a stranger I become. No, no, nothing could be less strange In entropy No change, no change, no change. No, I know how to behave In the restaurant now, I don't tear at the meat with my hands; If I've become a man of the world somehow That's not necessarily to say I'm a worldly man. Keep on shuffling the menu And the order never comes on time. No, there's only diffraction patterns, No reading between the lines; Only the rate of emission, And reason allows no rime. Nothing could be less strange In entropy No change, no change, no change. No, nothing could be less strange... Entropy... ... A stranger, a worldly man. |
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| 5. |
| 4:50 |
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There was something in the conversation,
ancient languages were breaking through; I was falling for infatuation ? how about you? You say it's nothing special, that's just the way it is... you hit me where I live. Though I drink the cup it leaves me thirsting ? what on earth am I supposed to do? When I try to speak I find my bursting heart full of you. You say it's only natural, you say forget and forgive... you hit me where I live. I was once the man who felt no passion; I was nothing till I fell for you. You're a duelist in your own fashion, eyes that run me through. You say that it's a mixed blessing, but I should take the gift you give... you hit me where I live. |
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| 6. |
| 5:20 |
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We can talk about it in the car;
We can talk about it with the drive. Keep your eyes on the road up ahead, (Don't forget what we said about) Staying alive. If we'd been stuck just a few hours more I'd have cracked up, I'd say. No you never can tell when it's coming; It's so hard getting out of the way; To be sitting targets is surely No better than running away... Sitting targets in the car I'll be thinking about it; Not so far, no so far to drive. Ooh, this time we made our getaway, We'd been stalling for too long. Keep your eyes on the road up ahead While I try to forget what's been going wrong (What's been going on...) You'd better check up on the CB, See what Tail - End Charlie say - "Oh you never can tell how it's going, No you never can see how it's been, But to stay sitting targets is surely No better than living a dream." Sitting targets in the car I've been thinking it over, It's not so far, not so far to drive. In the car... We can talk about it in the car, Surely we can talk about it some other time. Keep your eyes on the road up ahead - I don't seem to be able to use mine And I'm losing control of my body And I'm running scared... Oh, we're left with a black-and-white movie, A positional state of affairs, An obsessional interest in moving Just to prove that we're there, Sitting targets in the car. I'll be thinking about it, not so far to drive Sitting targets in the car, I've been thinking it over, it's Not so far, not so far, Not too far to drive. |
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| 7. |
| 2:35 |
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Such distance to the tips of the fingers,
The ganglion loom jerks inside; The body grows steadily stranger But the spirit won't be denied. That sharp halogen flash jars the eyeball, The limbs pump in overdrive; The body grows seemingly weaker But the s Pirit won't be denied. Yeah, the ash-mark stands out on the forehead As the vacuum sneaks up on the eyes; The body becomes a constant traitor But the spirit won't be denied. And they call that living a normal live, But normality's not standardized. Though the body gets ever more root-bound The spirit won't be denied Yes, the spirit survives. ------------- Lyrics Powered by LyricFind Written By HAMMILL, PETER <i>Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing</i> |
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| 8. |
| 3:39 |
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Won't hear a sound at Porton Down,
The clear liquids keep their silence, Buried underground at Porton Down The fast form of the final violence. Quite right to be worried about the proliferation Of nuclear bombs and power stations, But there's a deterrent that's going to Unearth us yet... Hurry on round about Porton Down, A quick glimpse of the future warfare Hidden under ground at Porton Down; Far too frightening to utter what you saw there. They got bacteria to drop us where we stand, They got diseases still unknown to man, They got the virus and a microgram's enough To do in a continent. The ultimate madness, Just one shattered test-tube to wipe out the world. It begins with the mustard gas, It proceeds to Hiroshima. The culture moves on - Now it's bacterial, truly insane. Porton Down waits to fever the brain. Won't hear a sound at Porton Down, The clear liquids keep their silence Buried underground at Porton Down, The fast form of the final violence. Hurry on round about Porton Down A quick glimpse of the future warfare, Hidden underground at Porton Down, Far too frightening to say what you saw there. No sound at Porton Down, From Porton Down, After Porton Down. |
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| 9. |
| 4:07 |
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Look out through your dark hair,
tell me the colour of your eyes when they're cool; look out through the dark ages and tell me what's covert, transfixing you. Oh, you're nobody's business, oh, you're nobody's business and the patterns of your life are suddenly twisted and torn and gone are all the clothes that you've worn. Just like yesterday's papers you're tired and forlorn and you're no-one. Look back at the photos you've saved, dead mementoes of your modelling days; I look through all my cuttings of you, but they all seem so lost, so dead, out of phase. Oh, you're nobody's business.... I think back to the girl that I knew - she doesn't seem so very much like you: she used to care about her smile and not her face... that's before it was her fortune and took over her soul's place. Oh, you're nobody's business.... Papering yesterday's pages, tapering off in the storm, you're no-one. |
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| 10. |
| 3:58 |
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Oh, suddenly things begin to come clear in my mind
as I look into the land laid bare by your eyes; E-S/M attractions are working behind my thought, I can't help my feelings, the way that my emotions are over-wrought. Refrain: Good morn ing, sunshine! You're all around my head, Good morning, sunshine! I'm ready to be led. Good morning, sunshine! You know how sad it makes me to see you unhappy so smile, spread sunshine all around.... How sweet it would be to be chained by your side; how sweet if you would strip my worried mind. Your blonde/brown hair hangs down on you, how I wish that it hung on me, there's something in your allure, that makes me know I'll never again be free. Refrain I'd like to run on the clouds of my liberty, but for you I'd get hooked and float six inches mud-free. The sight of your smile just makes me want to jump and clap; the fact that you may be owed to someone else can't entirely tight your trap. |
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| 11. |
| 7:11 |
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(Even the wolf can learn,
even the sheep can turn, even the frog become at last the prince.) No more imagined insults and no more bloated pride - I'll see you at the wedding, I'll see you on the other side and I'll hold my peace forever but I'll hold my passion more... I'll be holding the door and waiting for the princess - I could say I'm waiting for the world but when it comes right down to it I'm simply waiting for the girl. On through the ring of changes I'll be at my side in a single bound, lost and found... looking to be lost and found. La Rossa extends her hands - in the morning light the stigmata don't show. She's already up, making plans; she thinks it's maybe time he ought to go. And she's friendly like it's a service but she's ringing round his head though he knows she has no further use for him still he feels like he's raised from the dead. Out to the cold grey daylight, never even wondering, of course, if one moment of perfect passion is worth a lifetime of remorse. So it's no more empty promises and no more idle threats; no more "if only"s and no more "and yet"s; no more wishes for the future, no more denials of the past: I'm free at last, I'm in love at last. I'm lost and found.... (Put on your red dress, baby. 'Cause we're going out tonight, put on your high-heeled sneakers, Everything's going to be alright?) |
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| 12. |
| 3:45 |
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Wrong drink to order.
Suspicion grows, Wrong situation... Oh, no-one knows where you've gone to In the pagan night And the neon reflections Spread cadmium white. You came here looking for something But this wasn't it, quite. Hey, take a Polaroid, exit, And well you might. Sign the picture, get out of the frame; Sign the picture, and throw it away. Sign the picture, sign the picture, Throw the picture away. Now she turns her attention And her camera on you: This could be all of the moments That you'll ever live through, Oh, but your heart beats the rhythm Of primeval tattoo... I hear you make your excuses As you usually do. Sign the picture, get out of the frame; Sign the picture, and throw it away; Sign the picture, sign the picture, Throw the picture away... Although it's going to come back. You've got a certain knack Of making of such things Auspicious signs. |
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| 13. |
| 3:50 |
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Drawing back the curtains,
sluggish city daylight in the afternoon... here's that special silence, just before you walk out of the hotel room. Each time we're so close I assume that we'll never be again. Oh, how long can we pretend that we're just good friends? A casual affair is all that you can spare from your emotional change; a calendar of meetings, strangers on the street the best we ever arrange. Now I just can't stand all the pain, all the constant make and mend: how long must we pretend that we're just good friends? I gave you my devotion, hiding nothing up my sleeve. If I walked clean out of your life would you even notice me leave? So much tangled-up emotion, should I stay or should I go? If I walked clean out of your life how long would it take you to know? Are we such good friends? You used to say "I love you", you used to say "You make me feel alive and young". Now we're just a habit, a flavour, once a month, to titillate your tongue. Oh, how sordid this has become as the means approach the end ? oh, how long can we pretend that we're still good friends? I gave you my devotion, hiding nothing up my sleeve. If I walked clean out of your life would you even notice me leave? So much tangled-up emotion, should I stay or should I go? If I walked clean out of your life how long would it take you to know? Are we such good friends? Are we still good friends? |
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| 14. |
| 4:59 |
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You must be crazy to stay here,
and I'll be crazy when you go; though there's so much I want to tell you all the words come out too slow. I've been locked in my problems, you seemed prepared to wait... now that I know I'm going to lose you all the words come out too late. There's no promise I can give you that you wouldn't know was fake; though I just want to be with you, there's no show that I can make. And in the morning, when I wake and find you dressing I can tell that it's on your mind to go for good; I know that all this time I've kept you guessing, but I'd tell you if I could. If I now said that I loved you how would that seem in your eyes? Oh, may my voice fall into silence if my words turn out to be lies. I never meant to hurt you, even though that's what I do ? even though you might not believe this all my words were meant for you. There's no promise I can give you that you wouldn't know was fake; though I just want to be with you, there's no show that I can make. And in the evening, when we sit and watch the TV I know that all this silence just won't do me any good and I want to beg you, beg you, beg you to believe me... oh, I'd tell you if I could, I'd tell you if I could. You know, you know, you know she's going to leave you, You know, you know, you know she's going to go, You know, you know, you know she's going to leave you. I'd tell you if I could. |
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