Peter Hammill

Sometimes it's very scary here, sometimes it's very sad,
sometimes I think I'll disappear; betimes I think I have.
There's a line snaking down my mirror,
splintered glass distorts my face
and though the light is strong and strange
it can't illuminate the musty corners of this place.
There is a lofty, lonely, Lohengrenic castle in the clouds;
I draw my murky meanings there
but seven years' dark luck is just around the corner
and in the shadows lurks the spectre of Despair.

A cracked mirror 'mid the drapes of the landing:
split image, labored understanding...
I'm only trying to find a place to hide my home.

I've lived in houses composed of glass
where every movement is charted
but now the monitor screens are dark
and I can't tell if silent eyes are there.
My words are spiders upon the page,
they spin out faith, hope and reason -
but are they meet and just, or only dust
gathering about my chair?
Sometimes I get the feeling
that there's someone else there:
the faceless watcher makes me uneasy;
I can feel him through the floorboards,
and His presence is creepy.
He informs me that I shall be expelled.
What is that but out of and into?
I don't know the nature of the door that I'd go through,
I don't know the nature of the nature
that I am inside ....

I've lived in houses of brick and lead
where all emotion is sacred
and if you want to devour the fruit
you must first sniff at the fragrance
and lay your body before the shrine
with poems and posies and papers
or, if you catch the ruse, you'll have to choose
to stay, a monk, or leave, a vagrant.
What is this place you call home?
Is it a sermon or a confession?
Is it the chalice that you use for protection?
Is it really only somewhere you can stay?
Is it a rule-book or a lecture?
Is it a beating at the hands of your Protector?
Does the idol have feet of clay?

Home is what you make it,
so my friends all say,
but I rarely see their homes in these dark days.
Some of them are snails
and carry houses on their backs;
others live in monuments
which, one day, will be racks.
I keep my home in place
with sellotape and tin-tacks;
but I still feel there's some other Force here....

He who cracks the mirrors and moves the walls
keeps staring through
the eye-slits of the portraits in my hall.
He ravages my library and taps the telephone.
I've never actually seen Him,
but I know He's in my home
and if he goes away,
I can't stay here either.
I believe...er ...I think...
well, I don't know ......

I only live in one room at a time,
but all of the walls are ears and all the windows, eyes.
Everything else is foreign,
'Home' is my wordless chant :
mmmmmaah!
Give it a chance!

I am surrounded by flesh and bone,
I am a temple of living,
I am a hermit, I am a drone,
and I am boring out a place to be.
With secret garlands about my head
unearthly silence is broke,
the room is growing dark, and in the stark light
I see a face I know.
Could this be the guy who never shows
the cracked mirror what he's feeling,
merely mumbles prayers to the ground where
he's kneeling:
"Home is home is home is home is home is home is me!"?
All you people looking for your houses,
don't throw your weight around,
you might break your glasses
and if you do, you know you just can't see,
and then how are you to find
the dawning of the day?
Day is just a word I use
to keep the dark at bay
and people are imaginary, nothing else exists
except the room I'm sitting in,
and, of course, the all-pervading mist -
sometimes I wonder if even that's real.

Maybe I should de-louse this place,
maybe I should de-place this louse,
maybe I'll maybe my life away
in the confines of this silent house.

Sometimes it's very scary here, sometimes it's very sad,
sometimes I think I'll disappear,sometimes I think ..... I....

A motor-bike in Afrika,
yeah, he's riding the white line,
oblivious of snakes stretched out across the way like trip-wire,
shouting
"The road is mine!"

Tracing the line of the Skeleton Coast,
ghost riders from the Sud-West:
the original Angels of Death they seem,
six motor-bikes abreast.

Riding through the oppressive night,
now only the hardest remain.
Look at the scars of the tyre-tracks,
look to the bodies behind their backs,
look at the bastards bray
in Afrika today.

The bodies of Biko and Soweto poor,
the Christian message of Dutch Reform,
the sound of the monster, the motor-bike roar,
the hate in the eyes of the uniformed Boer,
the head and the bucket, the boot and the floor...
racial torture and racial war
in Afrika today.

Come in Rhodesia, South Africa, your time is up...
no protection on a motor-bike, man;
sooner or later that normal traffic's gonna get you.

A perfect date to hesitate,
I hope it won't be too long.

You're a sucker for the punch
and the telegraph bells are ringing;
now it's coming to the crunch
as you stumble on the Jaffa Gate.
I think you know how it happens on the stage
when the heavenly choir are singing ?
you've been taken by a perfect date.

You made the Mount of Venus your Jerusalem,
you're marking time as symbol for debate;
you hope to find some moment close to infinite,
you hope to find a perfect date.

A perfect date to hesitate.
The future beckons us on.
There comes a time to hesitate ?
I hope it won't be too long.

You're a sucker for the punch
and the telegraph bells are ringing;
now it's coming to the crunch
as you stumble on the Jaffa Gate.
I think you know how it happens on the stage
when the heavenly choir are singing ?
yeah, you've been taken by a perfect date.

You've been playing on a hunch
and the strings of your heart are zinging.
Yeah, you cut loose from the bunch
but that doesn't mean you've sealed your fate.
I think you know how it happens,
though it's strange, when the choir start singing:
you've been taken by a perfect date.

Out of joint, out of true,
out of love, out of the blue,
out of order, out of orbit, out of control,
out of touch, out of line,
out of sync and out of time,
out of gas, out of tread, out of road.

Out of date, out of stock,
out of use ? out, out, damned spot!
You want out, you want out of it for good.
Out of the running, out of the game,
out on your feet, clear out of range,
out of context, out of contact, out of the woods.

Out, out, looking for a way out,
no straws are left to cling to;
out, out, going for the fade-out...
but what do you fade into?

Out on the town, out for laughs,
out of service, out to grass,
out of mourning, out of purdah, out on bail,
out of kilter, out of grace,
out to get out of this place,
out of this world, out and out beyond the pale.

Right out of character, out of sympathy,
so far out upon a limb you're out of your tree...

Out of breath, out of tune,
out of your head and out of view,
down and out, out for the count, or is it just for revenge?
Out of sight, out of mind,
leave it out, leave it behind
out of reach of all family, all friends.

Out, out, going for the bale-out,
no parachute above you.
Out, out... you'll not feel the fall-out.

I wish I'd said "I love you".

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?

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?

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?

I stretch my hands
Clutch vacant laughter
In silence and sweet, sweet pain
Without demand
But with a longing
For what will never come again
I smell your perfume
On the sheets in the morning
It linger like the patterns
On the window after rain
A past that lives
If only for the present...
Which is gone and will never come again
To your sad eyes
Turned away, mine say
'Do you? Did you? How?'
As the darkness
Slides away the day
Shows what was
And makes what is now
I see your picture
As though it were a mirror
But there's no part of you
Outside the frame
Except the change that you game to me:
This will never come again
I am me
I was so before you
But afterwards I am not the same
You are gone
And I am with you:
This will never come again

I stretch my hands
Clutch vacant laughter
In silence and sweet, sweet pain
Without demand
But with a longing
For what will never come again
I smell your perfume
On the sheets in the morning
It linger like the patterns
On the window after rain
A past that lives
If only for the present...
Which is gone and will never come again
To your sad eyes
Turned away, mine say
'Do you? Did you? How?'
As the darkness
Slides away the day
Shows what was
And makes what is now
I see your picture
As though it were a mirror
But there's no part of you
Outside the frame
Except the change that you game to me:
This will never come again
I am me
I was so before you
But afterwards I am not the same
You are gone
And I am with you:
This will never come again

I stretch my hands
Clutch vacant laughter
In silence and sweet, sweet pain
Without demand
But with a longing
For what will never come again
I smell your perfume
On the sheets in the morning
It linger like the patterns
On the window after rain
A past that lives
If only for the present...
Which is gone and will never come again
To your sad eyes
Turned away, mine say
'Do you? Did you? How?'
As the darkness
Slides away the day
Shows what was
And makes what is now
I see your picture
As though it were a mirror
But there's no part of you
Outside the frame
Except the change that you game to me:
This will never come again
I am me
I was so before you
But afterwards I am not the same
You are gone
And I am with you:
This will never come again

I stand on the tallest building
and stare down at the grey runway
and the tail-smoke of the Boeing jet
that's taking you so far away.

Believe me, I don't want you to leave me;
look in my eyes and you'll see them
filled with pain.
Imagine just how sad I'll be
in some future day when I turn
and no longer see your face.
All I can now cry is goodbye, love, goodbye.

In a week, in a month, in a year,
in a lifetime how I'll feel none can tell.
All I know is now you're going
there's really no-one here to help.

Believe me, I don't want you to leave me;
look in my eyes and you'll see them
filled with pain.
Imagine just how sad I'll be
in some future day when I turn
and no longer see your face.
All I can now cry is goodbye, love, goodbye.

Already it's too late, you're through the boarding-gate
and walking on the tarmac.
Already you are free, already you've left me
and cannot bear to look back, can you?

A brief taxi on the runway,
then up into the stilling night sky;
and I'm standing on the observation tower,
my eyes too dimmed by distance to cry.

Believe me, I don't want you to leave me;
look in my eyes and you'll see them
filled with pain.
Imagine just how sad I'll be
in some future day when I turn
and no longer see your face.
All I can now do is walk away alone,
without you.

All the words in the world
wouldn't make you stay this evening;
though I scrabble around for any I can say,
so hard to take our leave,
so hard to stop believing.

I guess we know this silence well enough,
and you'll be going by and by;
I'm scared that anything I offer
might be taken for a lie.

All said and done,
and there's no way to make it any different.
I hold my tongue as you're walking away.
So goodbye comes ?
oh, I don't want to make it difficult
but nothing's easy when there's nothing left to say.

Now we only talk as though time were heavy weather
with a storm-cloud brewing on each hasty phrase...
all the words in the world wouldn't put us back together.

Maybe we had our opportunities...
most of those chances passed us by;
I'm scared that anything I offer
might be taken as a bribe.

All said and done,
and there's no way to make it any different.
I hold my tongue as you're walking away.
So goodbye comes ?
oh, I don't want to make it difficult
but nothing's easy when there's nothing left to say.

Here's a sensation I wouldn't trade ?
pinpoint in the onrush,
dancing to the rhythm of the wiper blades.
Up ahead on the autobahn
headlights like a lava stream;
up ahead in the distance is where we're going,
where we will have been.

Back in the motor, keep going overnight;
we've got no certain destination
but for all we know we might.
So get back in the motor, let's drive it anyplace...
better to travel hopefully
than to arrive, in any case.

While you check out the map-book,
just like a novel that's all out of joint,
our passport into anonymity...
stick a pin into the vanishing point.
I could drive for hours,
don't even need to know the way to go;
I could drive forever
with some classical music on the radio.

Back in the motor, back into overdrive
and if we travel hopefully then we'll know we're alive.
Get back in das Auto, let's drive it anyplace,
better to travel hopefully than to arrive in any case.

We could drive forever,
we could drive forever,
I caught you thinking, I bet you were,
that we could drive forever
in the never-never land of the metaphor.

Back in the motor, keep going overnight;
We've got no key to the highway
but for all we know we might as well
get back in the motor, let's drive it anyplace,
better to travel hopefully than to arrive in any case.
So get back in the motor, let's get on with the drive
and if we travel hopefully then we know we're alive.

Get back in the motor.
Let's get back in the motor,
get in tune with the motor,
get back.

Here's a sensation I wouldn't trade ?
pinpoint in the onrush,
dancing to the rhythm of the wiper blades.
Up ahead on the autobahn
headlights like a lava stream;
up ahead in the distance is where we're going,
where we will have been.

Back in the motor, keep going overnight;
we've got no certain destination
but for all we know we might.
So get back in the motor, let's drive it anyplace...
better to travel hopefully
than to arrive, in any case.

While you check out the map-book,
just like a novel that's all out of joint,
our passport into anonymity...
stick a pin into the vanishing point.
I could drive for hours,
don't even need to know the way to go;
I could drive forever
with some classical music on the radio.

Back in the motor, back into overdrive
and if we travel hopefully then we'll know we're alive.
Get back in das Auto, let's drive it anyplace,
better to travel hopefully than to arrive in any case.

We could drive forever,
we could drive forever,
I caught you thinking, I bet you were,
that we could drive forever
in the never-never land of the metaphor.

Back in the motor, keep going overnight;
We've got no key to the highway
but for all we know we might as well
get back in the motor, let's drive it anyplace,
better to travel hopefully than to arrive in any case.
So get back in the motor, let's get on with the drive
and if we travel hopefully then we know we're alive.

Get back in the motor.
Let's get back in the motor,
get in tune with the motor,
get back.

So here we are, alone -
Our children have grown up and moved away.
Living their own lives, they say...
It all seems very strange to me.

I don't understand their ways:
Our children amaze me all the time
And I often wonder why they make me feel
So sad and suddenly old.

Now we're left with an empty home,
From our nest all the birds have flown for foreign skies.
We're discarded, of no further use,
Though we gave our kids all our youth and all our lives -
We really tried.

Now there's only my wife and me;
We used to have a family - now that's gone
And only memories linger on...
It all seems very wrong to me.

To our sorrows they were quite deaf
And as soon as they could they left us to our tears.
We always tried to teach what was good -
Yes, we gave our kids all we could through all the years.

So here we are at last;
The time has gone so fast and so have my dreams.
I simply don't know what it all means,
This pointless passage through the night,
This autumn-time, this walk upon the water....

I wonder how long
It will be till this song
Is sung by our own sons and daughters?

So here we are, alone -
Our children have grown up and moved away.
Living their own lives, they say...
It all seems very strange to me.

I don't understand their ways:
Our children amaze me all the time
And I often wonder why they make me feel
So sad and suddenly old.

Now we're left with an empty home,
From our nest all the birds have flown for foreign skies.
We're discarded, of no further use,
Though we gave our kids all our youth and all our lives -
We really tried.

Now there's only my wife and me;
We used to have a family - now that's gone
And only memories linger on...
It all seems very wrong to me.

To our sorrows they were quite deaf
And as soon as they could they left us to our tears.
We always tried to teach what was good -
Yes, we gave our kids all we could through all the years.

So here we are at last;
The time has gone so fast and so have my dreams.
I simply don't know what it all means,
This pointless passage through the night,
This autumn-time, this walk upon the water....

I wonder how long
It will be till this song
Is sung by our own sons and daughters?

So here we are, alone -
Our children have grown up and moved away.
Living their own lives, they say...
It all seems very strange to me.

I don't understand their ways:
Our children amaze me all the time
And I often wonder why they make me feel
So sad and suddenly old.

Now we're left with an empty home,
From our nest all the birds have flown for foreign skies.
We're discarded, of no further use,
Though we gave our kids all our youth and all our lives -
We really tried.

Now there's only my wife and me;
We used to have a family - now that's gone
And only memories linger on...
It all seems very wrong to me.

To our sorrows they were quite deaf
And as soon as they could they left us to our tears.
We always tried to teach what was good -
Yes, we gave our kids all we could through all the years.

So here we are at last;
The time has gone so fast and so have my dreams.
I simply don't know what it all means,
This pointless passage through the night,
This autumn-time, this walk upon the water....

I wonder how long
It will be till this song
Is sung by our own sons and daughters?

Been alone so long
that I've forgotten what it's like
to feel somebody next to me
and hear her breathing peacefully
when I wake up at night.

Been alone so long
that I've forgotten what to say -
if I meet somebody who
might easily resemble you
I smile, but look away...
I look away.

Been alone so long
that I've forgotten what to do:
how to make the whole thing right
and how to help if she's uptight
and when to run and when to fight...
how to make her stay the night -
that's if I ever knew.

Been alone so long
that I've forgotten what it's like
to feel somebody next to me
and hear her breathing peacefully
when I wake up at night,
wake up at night

Been alone so long
that I've forgotten what it's like
to feel somebody next to me
and hear her breathing peacefully
when I wake up at night.

Been alone so long
that I've forgotten what to say -
if I meet somebody who
might easily resemble you
I smile, but look away...
I look away.

Been alone so long
that I've forgotten what to do:
how to make the whole thing right
and how to help if she's uptight
and when to run and when to fight...
how to make her stay the night -
that's if I ever knew.

Been alone so long
that I've forgotten what it's like
to feel somebody next to me
and hear her breathing peacefully
when I wake up at night,
wake up at night

Been alone so long
that I've forgotten what it's like
to feel somebody next to me
and hear her breathing peacefully
when I wake up at night.

Been alone so long
that I've forgotten what to say -
if I meet somebody who
might easily resemble you
I smile, but look away...
I look away.

Been alone so long
that I've forgotten what to do:
how to make the whole thing right
and how to help if she's uptight
and when to run and when to fight...
how to make her stay the night -
that's if I ever knew.

Been alone so long
that I've forgotten what it's like
to feel somebody next to me
and hear her breathing peacefully
when I wake up at night,
wake up at night

You're helpless, entranced by the magical
touch of her skin against yours, adrift ?
what else is there but this?
It feels so sweet
to fall asleep
beside the one you love.

Remember this fireside, this quiet room,
embers now flickering their last, like ghosts
and still she holds you close.
Who else could know
such afterglow
beside the one you love?

Someday the memory will come again
as vivid as sensation now and then
there'll be no "why?" or "when?".
Who else could do
these things to you
beside the one you love?

It feels so sweet
to fall asleep
beside the one you love.

When I began I was full of altruistic dreams,
believed in princes and princesses, kings and queens -
now I find they're all human inside,
all bitterness and pride,
so why shouldn't I be like that too?
It seems that I've forgotten all I tried so hard to learn;
it seems there's not an ounce of love or trust
anywhere in the world.

Friends - they're all harbouring knives
to embed in your back out of revenge, or spite,
or indifference, or lack of other things to do -
in the end just who's going to be a friend for you
when they kick you in the guts just as your hand holds out the pearl?
It seems that there is nothing left but
hatred and lust in the world.

I don't give a damn anymore - I've only wound up betrayed.
It's all been absolutely worthless -
all the efforts I've made to be gentle and kind
are repaid with contempt,
degraded by sympathy and worthless kindness
and love that isn't meant.
I'm through with joy and company, I've done with pretty words,
betrayed - there's no hiding-place
anywhere in the world.
I've nothing left to fight for except making my passion heard -
I don't believe in anything
anywhere in the world.

When I began I was full of altruistic dreams,
believed in princes and princesses, kings and queens -
now I find they're all human inside,
all bitterness and pride,
so why shouldn't I be like that too?
It seems that I've forgotten all I tried so hard to learn;
it seems there's not an ounce of love or trust
anywhere in the world.

Friends - they're all harbouring knives
to embed in your back out of revenge, or spite,
or indifference, or lack of other things to do -
in the end just who's going to be a friend for you
when they kick you in the guts just as your hand holds out the pearl?
It seems that there is nothing left but
hatred and lust in the world.

I don't give a damn anymore - I've only wound up betrayed.
It's all been absolutely worthless -
all the efforts I've made to be gentle and kind
are repaid with contempt,
degraded by sympathy and worthless kindness
and love that isn't meant.
I'm through with joy and company, I've done with pretty words,
betrayed - there's no hiding-place
anywhere in the world.
I've nothing left to fight for except making my passion heard -
I don't believe in anything
anywhere in the world.

I've got something to say,
and it ain't the usual sort of sob-story
that you hear every day.
I've got something to ask,
and I know that now's the time,
now all the rooms of the party are dark.
Proffer me the candy,
yes, I understand is fine;
blow another candle out
and throw another line…
Birthday girl, I've got something for you,
there's ice in the cauldron, look out now;
birthday girl, here comes a special
like Hansel and Gretel never had.

There's parrots in the pantry
and there's lizards in the loo;
there's bloaters in the bathroom
and this party is a zoo;
I'm sitting in the kitchen
trying hard to talk to you
Birthday girl, I've got something for you,
there's ice in the cauldron, look out now;
birthday girl, here comes a special
like Hansel and Gretel never had.

I just wanted to say
that I'd like to make this the happiest of all your birthdays
and if that means turning the key
then I'll turn it with you and there'll be no doubt
about the way I agree,
Birthday girl, I've got something for you,
there's ice in the cauldron, look out now;
birthday girl, here comes a special
like Hansel and Gretel never had.

I've got something to say,
and it ain't the usual sort of sob-story
that you hear every day.
I've got something to ask,
and I know that now's the time,
now all the rooms of the party are dark.
Proffer me the candy,
yes, I understand is fine;
blow another candle out
and throw another line…
Birthday girl, I've got something for you,
there's ice in the cauldron, look out now;
birthday girl, here comes a special
like Hansel and Gretel never had.

There's parrots in the pantry
and there's lizards in the loo;
there's bloaters in the bathroom
and this party is a zoo;
I'm sitting in the kitchen
trying hard to talk to you
Birthday girl, I've got something for you,
there's ice in the cauldron, look out now;
birthday girl, here comes a special
like Hansel and Gretel never had.

I just wanted to say
that I'd like to make this the happiest of all your birthdays
and if that means turning the key
then I'll turn it with you and there'll be no doubt
about the way I agree,
Birthday girl, I've got something for you,
there's ice in the cauldron, look out now;
birthday girl, here comes a special
like Hansel and Gretel never had.

The visitors find the children gone from school:
Aged relations sling their guns across the desks...
There'll be no break-time for them unless
They talk about tomorrow
As though it's already on its way.
Amen, oh yes, they're
Waiting for the breakthrough in time.
The visitors hide no aces up their sleeves
And the classroom pulses to many different drums.
If only a breakthrough in time would come
There'd be some chance for the visited ones.
We could talk about tomorrow
As though we believed in that.
We could talk about it right now,
And it would come as a shock
To feel the fingernail grow on the trigger finger -
Still the visitors clock us
Waiting for the breakthrough,
Waiting for the breakthrough
With time on our hands.
(It's there all the time.)

The visitors find the children gone from school:
Aged relations sling their guns across the desks...
There'll be no break-time for them unless
They talk about tomorrow
As though it's already on its way.
Amen, oh yes, they're
Waiting for the breakthrough in time.
The visitors hide no aces up their sleeves
And the classroom pulses to many different drums.
If only a breakthrough in time would come
There'd be some chance for the visited ones.
We could talk about tomorrow
As though we believed in that.
We could talk about it right now,
And it would come as a shock
To feel the fingernail grow on the trigger finger -
Still the visitors clock us
Waiting for the breakthrough,
Waiting for the breakthrough
With time on our hands.
(It's there all the time.)

Look at the candle, as it's life is bought,
as the wick just rolls of and dies;
look at the wax-drops as they cease from their goal
and the game they were playing loses its joy
and the youth which they played in runs away....
How long will you be gone?

Flames sucks at air now and its breath comes short
as it wavers to half its size;
vacuum closes in and it attacks the soul.
Now the force omnipotent itself is destroyed
and for lack of itself it wanes away....
How long will you be gone?

So does my mind fly as I fight my thought -
and I lose, for I cannot find:
sent my eyes long miles, they do not know home!
For the life I was part of breathes its last
and not only life, but hope has gone away....
How long will you be gone?
How long will you be gone

-------------
Lyrics Powered by LyricFind
Written By PETER HAMMILL
Lyrics © WINDSWEPT HOLDINGS LLC, CARLIN AMERICA INC, R & M MUSIC PRODUCTIONS INC

I found myself lying on the balcony,
Stripling terror, naked to the bone;
The secret asteroid jungle nearly done for me -
I saw it all just a moment ago.
I know I'd better watch out
For the Central Hotel...
I'm not going back.
Repetition, superstition, singularity,
Though every cell in the body has changed
The walls move in well-accustomed hilarity -
The circuit changes,
But the joke stays the same.
I know I'd better watch out
For the Central Hotel
I think I'd better get out,
I'm not feeling so well.
And I won't be going back,
Not if I can help it.
I can't help it, I can't help it
If I still am what I was;
I can't help it, I can't help it,
Can't stop the therefore because
I can't help it.
The grace of god shows I'll be going on,
I'll be coming back.
I know nothing of the miles of the marathon,
I hear nothing of the footfall behind,
I search for rhythm and I find that I haven't one
Slow motion in the runner's mind.
I know I'd better watch out
For the Central Hotel
I think I'd better get out,
I'm not feeling so well
I know I'd better check out,
But anyone here can tell
I'll be coming back, I'll be back.
I'm the Central Hotel

I found myself lying on the balcony,
Stripling terror, naked to the bone;
The secret asteroid jungle nearly done for me -
I saw it all just a moment ago.
I know I'd better watch out
For the Central Hotel...
I'm not going back.
Repetition, superstition, singularity,
Though every cell in the body has changed
The walls move in well-accustomed hilarity -
The circuit changes,
But the joke stays the same.
I know I'd better watch out
For the Central Hotel
I think I'd better get out,
I'm not feeling so well.
And I won't be going back,
Not if I can help it.
I can't help it, I can't help it
If I still am what I was;
I can't help it, I can't help it,
Can't stop the therefore because
I can't help it.
The grace of god shows I'll be going on,
I'll be coming back.
I know nothing of the miles of the marathon,
I hear nothing of the footfall behind,
I search for rhythm and I find that I haven't one
Slow motion in the runner's mind.
I know I'd better watch out
For the Central Hotel
I think I'd better get out,
I'm not feeling so well
I know I'd better check out,
But anyone here can tell
I'll be coming back, I'll be back.
I'm the Central Hotel

I don't know quite what's happening
and my eyes don't see too clear;
all I know is I need you here,
if only to shield me from the mood of the world
and hold me and say it doesn't matter....
but I'm like a child whose dreams are shattered,

Crowding round me: images of broken thought,
lines of my life now overgrown.
All I can feel is I'm so alone,
without even your bright eyes to reach into my mind
and say that in my life I've done right,
and I'm like a moonchild in the sunlight.

So cast your thoughts upon me, wherever you are,
that I may feel you close beside me
and hold your hand, for you to guide me
through all these catacombs which freeze me
with their touch;
unknowing, knowing so much, my mind cries out
and I'm like a child when the light's out

With a child's fear of the dark

-------------
Lyrics Powered by LyricFind
Written By PETER HAMMILL
Lyrics © WINDSWEPT HOLDINGS LLC, CARLIN AMERICA INC, R & M MUSIC PRODUCTIONS INC

Behind the smile of confidence
somewhere you'll find the wanted man
blank-faced and wary of conversation with himself.
Around the ring of confidence
they're dancing to a different tune;
the others seem so confident,
why don't you take a leaf from the storm we're passing through?
In confidence we sail across the seven seas
to hide behind the veil ? in confidence the key!
"I'm in good form, I'm feeling fine,"
responsibly how well you do ?
there's nothing I can say about
the usual cocktail of public faith and private taboo.
In confidence the trick is there for all to see ?
In confidence the key!

Oh, don't anyone let the cat out of the bag,
don't anyone admit to human frailty.
Someone let the cat out of the bag.
Confidentially we learn we're not alone,
in lack of confidence we're not alone,
in lack of confidence we're not alone.

Behind the smile of confidence
somewhere you'll find the mortal man
waving his arms in some urgent secret semaphore...
So I'll face the world with confidence,
I'll toughen up my point of view,
what better way to live a life,
what other way can there be of seeing this thing through?
In confidence the trick, in confidence the game,
the thing that makes us tick ?
in confidence the flame!

Inside the ring of confidence
somewhere you'll find a stone-age man
lost in the forest with darkness falling,
striking his flint to hold back
the roaring, the alien, the world.

We are not alone.

You turn out the lights and sit alone,
Trying to pretend that it's anguish,
Start at the ring of a telephone,
Throw down all your food at the banquet,
Keep a close eye on all you own,
While leaving it all to languish...
Is this what makes you happy?
Is this what brings you joy?
Your excuses are so crappy...
Silly boy

You take all the love and throw it aside
To wallow in your sorrow,
Expect everyone to know how you feel inside,
To forgive and forget come tomorrow
Repaying all your debts with uncommon pride
But denying that you ever borrowed...
Is this what makes you perfect?
Is this what makes you free?
Just how long did you rehearse it,
Or does it just come naturally?

Crying wolf from the depth of your sheep's heart,
Crying fire from the depth of the well
In an endless parade of repeat starts,
Just how long will it last, can you tell?

Until all your friends and lovers
Are simply bored with the pretense?
It'll be too late then to discover
Just exactly what you meant
And what was true
And what was false...
The wolf turned into human,
The killer with remorse

Crying pain as though that should be pleasure,
Crying anger as though that should be revenge,
Crying sorrow as though that were a treasure,
Your treasure will find you in the end.

When all of your friends have gone away,
Unwilling to put up with the danger
That lies in each spiteful word you say,
You'll be left, a greying wolf in a manger
And when you've raised your last howl
And destroyed all that you can
With rotting teeth an slack jowls
You'll be left a lonely man.
And when it's nearly finished
And you know the end is near
With

You turn out the lights and sit alone,
Trying to pretend that it's anguish,
Start at the ring of a telephone,
Throw down all your food at the banquet,
Keep a close eye on all you own,
While leaving it all to languish...
Is this what makes you happy?
Is this what brings you joy?
Your excuses are so crappy...
Silly boy

You take all the love and throw it aside
To wallow in your sorrow,
Expect everyone to know how you feel inside,
To forgive and forget come tomorrow
Repaying all your debts with uncommon pride
But denying that you ever borrowed...
Is this what makes you perfect?
Is this what makes you free?
Just how long did you rehearse it,
Or does it just come naturally?

Crying wolf from the depth of your sheep's heart,
Crying fire from the depth of the well
In an endless parade of repeat starts,
Just how long will it last, can you tell?

Until all your friends and lovers
Are simply bored with the pretense?
It'll be too late then to discover
Just exactly what you meant
And what was true
And what was false...
The wolf turned into human,
The killer with remorse

Crying pain as though that should be pleasure,
Crying anger as though that should be revenge,
Crying sorrow as though that were a treasure,
Your treasure will find you in the end.

When all of your friends have gone away,
Unwilling to put up with the danger
That lies in each spiteful word you say,
You'll be left, a greying wolf in a manger
And when you've raised your last howl
And destroyed all that you can
With rotting teeth an slack jowls
You'll be left a lonely man.
And when it's nearly finished
And you know the end is near
With

You don't have to say a thing,
the silence is sweet;
we've been together today
in a way we might never repeat.
Oh, your head on the pillow,
the distance in your eyes ?
already you might be
rehearsing the word "Goodbye".

When the evening comes of this perfect day,
when the shadows run will you look away,
will you slip away?
Don't tell me anything.

You don't have to say a word,
all too well I understand:
there's a nervous tension
in the touch of your gentle hand.
That makes me afraid ?
I've seen you like this before...
the moment you find somebody new
you find yourself bored.
Oh, I don't want to lose you.

When the evening comes of this perfect day,
when the shadows run will you look away,
will you slip away?
Don't tell me anything.

Now the evening's come,
now I'm left alone;
now the passion's done
and you're going home...
oh, when will you telephone?
You don't tell me anything.
No, you don't even tell me
the bell won't ring.

We play games and every move
is noted down as a subsequent cause
and effectively chains our freedom and will to live;
we settle in to simple survival,
hanging on our pleasures grimly...
we must never let them go.

Our prison walls are slowly built,
stone by stone and day by day;
no provision for escape,
entombed alive in safety
and decay.

Time sets around us in killing frames,
black border round our names.
Our fingers lose their grip
and the torch slips.

The enemy for everyone
is everyone, inside.
I feel the hand of security
creep on me with ice-cold fingers
and crush my flower of freedom;
I've lost the course of my adventure,
all the things I'd meant to do are lost.

There is only one flame each
to keep alive in the wind.
But finally we snuff them out
all by ourselves.

We set traps and, in the end,
fall into our own snares
and have nowhere to go.

Time ever moves more slowly;
life gets more lonely
and less real.

We play games and every move
is noted down as a subsequent cause
and effectively chains our freedom and will to live;
we settle in to simple survival,
hanging on our pleasures grimly...
we must never let them go.

Our prison walls are slowly built,
stone by stone and day by day;
no provision for escape,
entombed alive in safety
and decay.

Time sets around us in killing frames,
black border round our names.
Our fingers lose their grip
and the torch slips.

The enemy for everyone
is everyone, inside.
I feel the hand of security
creep on me with ice-cold fingers
and crush my flower of freedom;
I've lost the course of my adventure,
all the things I'd meant to do are lost.

There is only one flame each
to keep alive in the wind.
But finally we snuff them out
all by ourselves.

We set traps and, in the end,
fall into our own snares
and have nowhere to go.

Time ever moves more slowly;
life gets more lonely
and less real.

My friends, I never really thought you'd go,
but, then, we know that's the way it happens here.
Now time is like cat's cradle in my hands:
I gather up the strands much too slowly.

The refugees are gone...they take their separate paths,
obliterate the past, figures in an ash shroud.
Susie, I guess you're on your way to be a star,
but I don't know where you are;
the only time I seem to see you is on the TV
It's so easy just to slip away....

Mike!
It's a year or two since I've seen you....
I might have dropped you a line
if I'd had time
or the will.

It's my fault too: I play a hermit's role
of cars and stages, wages, supersoul,
hardly ever seem to get outside these days.
So, dear friends, as we grow on we feel to grow away,
can only live in the hope that some day
it will all return.
It's so easy to slip away....

My friends, I never really thought you'd go,
but, then, we know that's the way it happens here.
Now time is like cat's cradle in my hands:
I gather up the strands much too slowly.

The refugees are gone...they take their separate paths,
obliterate the past, figures in an ash shroud.
Susie, I guess you're on your way to be a star,
but I don't know where you are;
the only time I seem to see you is on the TV
It's so easy just to slip away....

Mike!
It's a year or two since I've seen you....
I might have dropped you a line
if I'd had time
or the will.

It's my fault too: I play a hermit's role
of cars and stages, wages, supersoul,
hardly ever seem to get outside these days.
So, dear friends, as we grow on we feel to grow away,
can only live in the hope that some day
it will all return.
It's so easy to slip away....

Memory extends its empire,
holds the frame but blurs the line.
Some other time invades the sense,
a moment caught and lost, second sight.

Suddenly I feel you near me,
worlds away and close as this.
One stolen kiss upon my lips
and the moment slips away in mid-flight.

So many years ago, and now it's hard
to recall just what you meant to me.
Still I wait, I'm patient,
for the memory comes to me eventually.
Here you are, and though you may soon be gone
somehow the song still burns as bright.
I felt it happen here tonight ?
here, in the empire of delight.

Dream and ghost the world around me,
you seem as real as ever you were...
but in a blur your breath on my cheek
has gone and the evening come into night.

So many years ago, and now it's hard
to recall quite what you meant to me.
Still I wait, impatient,
though the memory comes to me eventually.
Here I am, forever caught up in this mystery
and then,
that moment when the fire ignites ?
I felt it happen here tonight,
here, in the empire of delight.

She's here now, perfume coiled like a thuggie scarf ?
such a powerful drug to make you so naked and clean.
And you want to tell her
so much to disclose
this idea you've got to sell her
a new set of empress's clothes.

Who was that woman in the masquerade,
do those eyes still give you fever?
Who was that woman in the mystery-play,
do you still want to please her?
Where is the woman who can offer escape,
do you look for your freedom?
You see her and you want to tell her
so much to disclose
this idea you've got to sell her.

You want her to wear that finery,
the style that's never seen,
you're trying to break the deadlock
of this strangleholding scene...
oh, look, a new set of empress's clothes!

The here and now stands in your way;
you carry the bell, book and candle...
she won't make you go
but she won't let you stay
and you want to tell her
so much to disclose
this idea you've got to sell her
a new set of empress's clothes.

You want her to wear that finery,
the style that's never seen;
(And you want to tell her)
You're trying to break the deadlock
of this strangleholding scene;
(There's so much to disclose)
she makes you want to confess it all ?
you don't know what it means,
but she makes you see
Empress's clothes.
Empress's clothes.
A new set of empress's clothes.
A new set of empress's clothes.
She makes you see empress's clothes.
She makes you see empress's clothes.
(repeat to fade)

Hunched in the corner of the dressing-room,
trying to get back to the real...
Uh-oh, here they come, ready for their meal:

Energy Vampires, crawling out of the wall,
they want to steal my vitality,
they want to drink it all.

This guy says that he wrote all my songs,
this girl says she's had my baby ?
me, I don't know them from Adam and Eve,
sometimes I really believe I'm going crazy.

"Excuse me while I suck your blood,
excuse me when I phone you,
I've got every one of your records, man,
doesn't that mean I own you?"
Oh, sure, I long ago decided to make myself an exponent
of public possession in the private obsession zone.

But now I'm serious, let's be serious,
I'm not selling you my soul,
try to put it in the records
but I've got to keep my life my own.
One thing I've not got a lot of is time
and it's slipping away...

I've got a life to live too.

Ah, here they come...
Vampires!

Hunched in the corner of the dressing-room,
trying to get back to the real...
Uh-oh, here they come, ready for their meal:

Energy Vampires, crawling out of the wall,
they want to steal my vitality,
they want to drink it all.

This guy says that he wrote all my songs,
this girl says she's had my baby ?
me, I don't know them from Adam and Eve,
sometimes I really believe I'm going crazy.

"Excuse me while I suck your blood,
excuse me when I phone you,
I've got every one of your records, man,
doesn't that mean I own you?"
Oh, sure, I long ago decided to make myself an exponent
of public possession in the private obsession zone.

But now I'm serious, let's be serious,
I'm not selling you my soul,
try to put it in the records
but I've got to keep my life my own.
One thing I've not got a lot of is time
and it's slipping away...

I've got a life to live too.

Ah, here they come...
Vampires!

Check the honesty of what's on offer,
true detective or a fake fakir?
All the evidence is circumstantial ?
as mud the evidence is clear.
Paranormal the investigation ?
where do things go when they disappear?
All the evidence has been trumped up…
as mud the evidence is clear,
I think we're on to something here,
I think we're into something,
I don't know but maybe we're all goldfish
in the mental sphere.

Evidently goldfish,
never questioning environment;
self-evidently goldfish,
we swim in circular experience.

Church of logical deliberation,
school of accidental wheels in gear,
surface knowledge is a serious matter,
a little consciousness is dangerous, dear;
all the evidence must be summed up ?
as mud the evidence is clear,
as mud the evidence is clear,
I think we're into something, I don't know but
maybe we're all goldfish in the mental sphere.

Evidently goldfish
never question their environment;
self-evidently goldfish,
we swim in circular experience;
evidently goldfish,
round and round and round and round
within our consciousness
in the mental sphere.

As mud the evidence is clear.

Hope by and by, hope by and by ?
motes in the eye, portcullis is shut...
a skull isn't much
of a c-c-castle to live in
when I know that the change is going to come,
the change has got to come.

Explosions in the brain attest to it.
evolution down the drain ?
let all the rest do it.
Oh yeah, the only result
is cumulative drek.
It won't be the drug,
it won't be the sex,
it's got to be the Faculty X.

Looking for a method, I play a straight bat,
throw away the chances to slip.
Yeah, you talk about the average ?
I don't care about that
and my words are only giving me lip
when I know that the change has got to come,
the change has got to come,
or what am I living for?
Or why am I here?
I'm running, I give in more,
far away from the near.

Go meta-physical world,
the sign that protects.
It wasn't the last,
it won't be the next,
it's Faculty X.

Reading seers, sages, prophets, obscurantist tracts,
draining the elixir to the dregs;
active yeast in the bottom is on the attack
and it leaves me without any legs to stand on.

Still I hope that the change will come.

Meanwhile I don't know,
I think I'll have to go,
go for the governing body
my consciousness elects.
It won't be so clear,
it won't be direct,
it's all that I fear,
it's all I suspect
and I'll disappear in Faculty X.

I pluck all these characters out of thin air,
I push them down into the lungs;
I infuse them with meaning as much as I dare.

Stretch out for the shoreline and wait for the wave...

Each moment is precious
those that I spend with you are a prize ?
I count myself lucky just being alive
while you're in my eyes.

Seeing's believing and I believe in you
I can't conceal it, just what I feel for you.
Seeing's believing, I know that you'll see me through.
I believe in you
I have faith in you
I put my faith in you.

Doubt casts its shadow
on every perfect plan that is made
but I'll be beside you through those dark days ?
I'll be with you come what may.

Seeing's believing and I believe in you
I can't conceal it, just what I feel for you.
Seeing's believing, I know that you'll see me through.
I believe in you
I have faith in you
I put my faith in you.

Don't let me down,
now that I've fallen completely for you.

Each moment is precious
those that I spend with you are a prize ?
I count myself lucky just being alive
while you're in my eyes.

Seeing's believing and I believe in you
I can't conceal it, just what I feel for you.
Seeing's believing, I know that you'll see me through.
I believe in you
I have faith in you
I put my faith in you.

Doubt casts its shadow
on every perfect plan that is made
but I'll be beside you through those dark days ?
I'll be with you come what may.

Seeing's believing and I believe in you
I can't conceal it, just what I feel for you.
Seeing's believing, I know that you'll see me through.
I believe in you
I have faith in you
I put my faith in you.

Don't let me down,
now that I've fallen completely for you.

Time has come between us:
In the passing months I've felt you slip away
As your words and mine came like nursery rhymes
Till there was nothing left to say.
Distance came between us long ago,
As our memories faded away...
Over the miles I ceased to smile
Because nothing felt the same.
That's how it seemed a week ago,
Far off in time and space.
Time and distance are between us now,
They form a bond to make things sure.
Nothing ever shatters,
You know what happens:
Time and distance make a love secure.

Everything clumsy slow-motion,
I look for the source.
Buildings loom up like icebergs
On collision course.
I don't want to go in there,
I just want to be alone,
Unpick the stitches of time
In London
In the no-go zone.
I've been kicking around like a dog,
Lost myself in the blank mass of fog,
It's some kind of service.
All humanity's fall-out is there,
Slumped in doorways
And mouthing cold air -
I have heard this.
Fogwalking, fogwalking.
Since the curfew
The streets are half-dead,
All the good folk asleep in their beds,
It's so easy to go off the rails
When the fog spores
Are breeding inside by head.
Fogwalking: there's a presence that I sense
Fogwalking: the neck muscles tense
Fogwalking: it's right here inside me,
Try to find a defense - oh, no.
Fogwalking through the wreckage,
Fogwalking through the worm-eaten
Night Apple,
Fogwalking through what used to be
Whitechapel.

Where are all the joys of yesterday?
Where, now, is the happiness and laughter that we shared?
Gone, like our childhood dreams, aspirations and beliefs;
time is a thief, and he ravages our gardens,
stripping saplings, felling trees,
trampling on our flowers, sucking sap and drying seeds.
In the midnight candle-light of experience
all colour fades, green fingers grey.

Time, alone, shall murder all the flowers,
still, there's time to share our plots and all that we call 'ours'.
How much worse, then, if we all deny each others' needs
and keep our gardens privately?

Its getting colder, wind and rain leave gashes;
looking back, I only see the friends I've lost.
Fires smoulder, raking through the ashes
my hands are dirty, my mind is numb,
I count the cost of 'I':
"I need to get on, I've got to tend my garden;
got to shut you out, no time to crave your pardon now".

Now I see the garden that I've grown is
just the same as those outside;
the fences that, erected to protect, simply divide....
There's ruination everywhere,
the weather has played havoc with the grass...
does anyone believe his garden's really going to last?
In the time allotted us, can any man keep miserly his own?
Is there any pleasure in a solitary growth?

Come and see my garden if you will,
I'd like someone to see it all before each root is killed.
Surely now its time to open up each life to all,
tear down the walls, if it's not too late!

There is so much sorrow in the world,
there is so much emptiness and heartbreak and pain.
Somewhere on the road we have all taken a wrong turn...
how can we build the right path again?

Through the grief, through the pain,
our flowers need each other's rain....

Mannheim: rainy Saturday with no money nor friend...
only Tequila can end the boredom.
Try to reach London for a pocket of hope;
we're children, we grope in the dark.
Hugh spends his last Mark on coffee and cheese...
I feel just like a refugee....
Rathaus-keepers and traffic police,
middle-aged maids with rotting teeth,
industrial magazines and old Sunday Times:
reading material/bleeding lines.
What are we doing here?

Memorial menace, eager for revenge,
has begun to bend our minds.
Shower-curtain imperative in the presence of acid;
now, feeling placid is death.
I try to hold my breath as the P.A. comes down....
here we all are in Ktown!
The Big Wheel never fails to grind around...
it drags me up/it drugs me down.
Seven senses wonder 'Can this be real,
Or am I become a performing seal?'
Why are we dying here?

I walk the streets alone, try to find a sign of love.
I've crushed the plaster-bone in the freaky clubs.
I have bit the fruit
but all I live for is to play
and I'm tired of the nights and the days
of airports, taxis and motorway showers,
groping for a key in the afterhours.
David takes to travelling in the van,
he knows that we all can understand:
we're at the mercy of the Kosmos tour,
making a pilgrimage to the German Lourdes...
but we're still crippled here.

Cathedrals spiral skywards; I think I'm getting vertigo.
I think I don't know what is real.
One more sudden spotlight; one more madness is over;
I must not show a sign of fear.
Words echo round my ears, I think I'm going to laugh...
think I'll just go and take a bath, guess I'll wash my clothes,
don't you know I'll grow to go and make my name,
maybe be a servant in the Famegame;
stake my sane and rest my life on the line....
Now lay me asunder and rend my mind;
at the fall of the curtain let this be my ghost.

Halfway between the zoo
and the temple of your Art...
but what do you do
with this motion of the heart?
Who'll be looking for you
when it all falls apart?

Oh, but what do you do,
and where do you start
when people are the glue,
when it all falls apart?

Oh, but what do you do,
and where do you start
when people are the glue,
when it all falls apart,
when it all falls apart,
when it all falls apart?

Besieged in the battlements of Babylon,
Still looking for the hat-peg to hang your head upon -
Now you've found a place you think is Avalon:
You can talk to anyone here.
You can throw your arms around your nearest neighbour
And the smiling ones'll tell you that you've saved her,
That she's saved you...
They offer the golden promises
The instantly divine;
You swallow the golden promises
Hook, sinker and line.
If you choose to throw your soul around the attitude
Reasoning and independent thought go down the tube
As you go slavening after every inane platitude -
How weak you find yourself here.
Do you really need to lose yourself completely?
How come you seem to rate it all so cheaply?
It's so weak-kneed
To go for the golden promises,
Mail-order
Oly vows;
You go for the golden promises -
I think you really ought to know better by now.
So I do my best and I do my nut,
I try to explain all these angles
But you turn away.
Oh, now you're looking in the white of my eyes,
And you know what I'm going to say: -
Don't go for the golden promises,
Don't go for the easy way...
It's right here on the doorstep:
Fool's gold - don't throw your life away.

Besieged in the battlements of Babylon,
Still looking for the hat-peg to hang your head upon -
Now you've found a place you think is Avalon:
You can talk to anyone here.
You can throw your arms around your nearest neighbour
And the smiling ones'll tell you that you've saved her,
That she's saved you...
They offer the golden promises
The instantly divine;
You swallow the golden promises
Hook, sinker and line.
If you choose to throw your soul around the attitude
Reasoning and independent thought go down the tube
As you go slavening after every inane platitude -
How weak you find yourself here.
Do you really need to lose yourself completely?
How come you seem to rate it all so cheaply?
It's so weak-kneed
To go for the golden promises,
Mail-order
Oly vows;
You go for the golden promises -
I think you really ought to know better by now.
So I do my best and I do my nut,
I try to explain all these angles
But you turn away.
Oh, now you're looking in the white of my eyes,
And you know what I'm going to say: -
Don't go for the golden promises,
Don't go for the easy way...
It's right here on the doorstep:
Fool's gold - don't throw your life away.

He'll be young forever if he keeps this up...
so the bedroom playboy's never going to grow up.
The heart is a secret garden
to which there are no short cuts.

Only green young fingers make the garden bloom;
for the serious young man now is always too soon.
The heart is a secret garden,
the head is a darkened room.

Close your eyes...
how does it feel to be in love?
Much too difficult, you shove
green fingers into gloves.

Get those fingers dirty ?
now you're getting warm;
blood those hands with passion,
turn your face to the storm.
The heart is a bed of roses,
the heart is a bed of thorns.

Bleed, green fingers, bleed.
Bleed, green fingers, bleed.

Some future memory stirs...
someone's always getting burned
if intensity holds true.
If it's real to be in love
how does it feel to be in love?
Green fingers stripped of gloves.

How was it that we first met?
...I forget, all I know is you
looked happy.
We walked around and talked a while;
In your smile I found that I
was happy.
I want to tell you;
it seems a thing to do;
I want to show I truly care.
Now at every time we meet
we walk the streets, I'm with you and I
feel happy.
Just thought I'd tell you.
It seems a thing to do,
I want to prove I truly care.
But how long will all this last?
Time goes fast, It doesn't matter,
with you, I'm happy.
Time goes fast, It doesn't matter, with you
I'm happy.

-------------
Lyrics Powered by LyricFind
Written By PETER HAMMILL
Lyrics © WINDSWEPT HOLDINGS LLC, CARLIN AMERICA INC, R & M MUSIC PRODUCTIONS INC

How was it that we first met?
...I forget, all I know is you
looked happy.
We walked around and talked a while;
In your smile I found that I
was happy.
I want to tell you;
it seems a thing to do;
I want to show I truly care.
Now at every time we meet
we walk the streets, I'm with you and I
feel happy.
Just thought I'd tell you.
It seems a thing to do,
I want to prove I truly care.
But how long will all this last?
Time goes fast, It doesn't matter,
with you, I'm happy.
Time goes fast, It doesn't matter, with you
I'm happy.

-------------
Lyrics Powered by LyricFind
Written By PETER HAMMILL
Lyrics © WINDSWEPT HOLDINGS LLC, CARLIN AMERICA INC, R & M MUSIC PRODUCTIONS INC

Here it comes up on the screen,
the propaganda of the military-industrial machine.
By now we find there's little choice:
when our masters tell us "smile" we rejoice.
With the nuclear shield safely in place
we're assured of the survival of the human race.

The earth is flat and pigs can fly ?
swallow hard and believe the lies.
In these alleys all are blind:
skittles fall for the dreams of humankind.

And nuclear power is safe as hell ?
Swallow hard, young William Tell.
The earth is flat and pigs can fly ?
If you swallow hard you believe the lies.

In the banks the deals are made ?
of course there's no profit in lending the Third World aid.
If the larder shelves are bare let the people eat cake
and thank the governments for the air.
Meanwhile, in the cells, secret police
champion freedom, offer justice, keep the peace.

The Pope talks to God, the Ayatollah too ?
swallow hard and believe it true.
The earth is flat and pigs can fly ?
if you swallow hard you'll believe the lies.
It's a hemlock world.

It's a hemlock world that we must drink ?
swallow hard and don't try to think.
It's a hemlock world that we all face ?
swallow hard on the bitter taste,
swallow hard on the bitter taste,
swallow hard on the aftertaste.

It's a hemlock, it's a hemlock world.

This is no time to hesitate,
the line slips into overload;
the mixture too thick,
the touch too close to the motherlode.

Time ? there's so little time
to do anything that's not useless...
you tried for a little while
to hide your face from the future.
Now you thought it was released,
you find that it's captured,
it sticks to your hand, you can't let it go.
What you knew as pain has turned into rapture,
but nothing goes away, it just changes...
you know it's the right tempo, the right place,
but something's gone wrong with the cardiograph.
Oh, your day shadow and your night face,
you thought it was forever ? but it doesn't last.

This is no time to hesitate,
it's no time to look for another road;
the shiver begins,
the touch too cold on the motherlode.
This is no time for hesitation,
hesitation, hesitation, hesitation.

Time, there's so little time
to do away with the tension;
I try for a little while
to put it all in suspension.
Well I thought I was released,
I find that I'm captured,
the groove sticks, it won't let me go.
The glass stain is now seen as fractured
and try as I may I can't change,
but I know it's the wrong tempo, wrong place
and something's gone wrong with the autograph
Oh, the day shadow and the night face
conspire into prophecy...
This is no time for hesitation.
Oh, this is no time for hesitation.
Oh, this is no time for hesitation.
Oh, this is no time for hesitation, oh no.
Yeah, this is no time for hesitation,
oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no...

I once wrote some poems of stillness and silence,
standing by rivers of reflected light:
my thoughts were on being loved and yet unloved, too -
I surrendered to the warmth of the night.
And now I feel like dying,
and if the water were still here, it would
hold me close.

I once wrote a poem while walking on gravestones,
as cobbles, rain and tear lashed down my face....
I then felt my whole world was fading
as memories jostled and fell into place.
And now I feel like dying,
and the pain of old fires still burns.

I never wrote poems when I bit my knuckles
and Death started slipping into my mouth...
but that was really a long time ago,
and I'm not writing poems now.
And though I don't feel quite like dying,
there is something deep inside me
softly crying.

And though I don't feel quite like dying
there is something deep inside me softly....

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.

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.

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.

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.

Pack your bags, we're leaving
earth, where hate is seething;
nothing's worth believing....
There's no time, make up your mind!
Imperial Zeppelin....

Quick, the engines are turning,
cabin lights are burning,
now there's no returning....
We'll have love a mile above...
Imperial Zeppelin, Imperial Zeppelin, Imperial Zeppelin!

We, the undersigned, being of sound mind,
hereby do declare:
'We henceforth pledge ourselves unto the power
of the Upper Air.'
Doesn't that sound simply super,
Zeppelin visions of the future?
Of course we all know very well
it wouldn't work, but what the hell -
every dice deserves a throw,
and when we get back home below
we can say we had a go!

Overboard we are throwing
seeds of love we are sowing,
hope to God they're growing....
Flying high across the sky:
Imperial Zeppelin!

We will try to do some good,
I don't know why we really should,
I only wish that we could!
Down below they'll see and know all about
Imperial Zeppelin!
Imperial Zeppelin!
Imperial Zeppelin

Dance the dance
dance the dance
till show time
the show goes on.

Dance the dance
dance the dance
in slow time
if that's what you want.

Dance the dance
in the back of the car
dance the dance
in the cocktail bar
till show time let it ride.

Dance the dance
I feel I've been here before,
dance the dance
this could be anywhere at all
in slow time.

Danced the dance,
or it soon will be;
danced the dance,
I'll be back here with me
in no time.

Danced the dance,
in no time danced the dance.
Danced the dance,
it's show time dance the dance
in slow time.

I promise you, I won't leave a clue:
no tell-tale remark, no print from my shoe.
Still, a steady trail to the water's edge...
I will keep my pledge to the end:
I intend to go free.

No more rushing around, no more travelling chess;
I guess I'd better sit down, you know I do need the rest....
Yes, it's time to resign with equanimity and placidity
from the game.
I can't explain;
I can't relate....
Have I done it all too late?

Now is the time for the commission to report;
till lately, I thought I'd been planted.
Trying hard to make it all come real,
permission to feel is ungranted.
But now it's happening I'd like to keep it private if I can;
last words, last looks, make a final stand.
Now my number's come up on the Pools,
I guess I'll board the Titanic for a cruise....

Now is the time to make my status clear,
too late, I fear, and lonely,
as friends and enemies traverse the stage;
all in a rage disown me.
And all the pit-props shatter into dust about my ears:
memory and conscience, hope and fear.
As I crawl out further on the limb
something tells me I am crawling
in to unknown prophecies and lives
the rainbow's end is hemmed around with knives....

As I stand on the boards and the stage lights grow dim,
shall I go out of doors, or shall I maybe go in?
Have I reached the point when I should take my cue
and follow you and your signs?
I can't remember my lines
as the prompter cat-calls
and the cards all fall
in the strike.

All the pages are thin, all the corners are curled.
Does the starshine fall in through my window on the world?
Or am I living out (the seeds of doubt) a chronicle of revenge?
The willow bends
as do my hands;
do you understand?
And will you still be my friend in the end?

When my mouth falls slack
and I can't summon up another tune,
shall I then look back and say
I did it all
too soon?

I promise you, I won't leave a clue:
no tell-tale remark, no print from my shoe.
Still, a steady trail to the water's edge...
I will keep my pledge to the end:
I intend to go free.

No more rushing around, no more travelling chess;
I guess I'd better sit down, you know I do need the rest....
Yes, it's time to resign with equanimity and placidity
from the game.
I can't explain;
I can't relate....
Have I done it all too late?

Now is the time for the commission to report;
till lately, I thought I'd been planted.
Trying hard to make it all come real,
permission to feel is ungranted.
But now it's happening I'd like to keep it private if I can;
last words, last looks, make a final stand.
Now my number's come up on the Pools,
I guess I'll board the Titanic for a cruise....

Now is the time to make my status clear,
too late, I fear, and lonely,
as friends and enemies traverse the stage;
all in a rage disown me.
And all the pit-props shatter into dust about my ears:
memory and conscience, hope and fear.
As I crawl out further on the limb
something tells me I am crawling
in to unknown prophecies and lives
the rainbow's end is hemmed around with knives....

As I stand on the boards and the stage lights grow dim,
shall I go out of doors, or shall I maybe go in?
Have I reached the point when I should take my cue
and follow you and your signs?
I can't remember my lines
as the prompter cat-calls
and the cards all fall
in the strike.

All the pages are thin, all the corners are curled.
Does the starshine fall in through my window on the world?
Or am I living out (the seeds of doubt) a chronicle of revenge?
The willow bends
as do my hands;
do you understand?
And will you still be my friend in the end?

When my mouth falls slack
and I can't summon up another tune,
shall I then look back and say
I did it all
too soon?

Follow the instructions,
the envelope is sealed:
we're waiting on an update,
something like the reinvention of the wheel.
Who made the world so complicated?
Who made the watchword wait and see?
I wake myself up, shake myself up,
take myself apart but still can't see...
The esoteric is lost on me.

Follow the instructions:
they speak in many tongues,
in unlimited edition
and the last step on the ladder is the bottom rung.
The diagram is so confusing,
anagrammatical the mystery;
I wake myself up, shake myself up,
break myself apart and find in me
the esoteric machinery,
the esoteric invisibly.

Follow the instructions,
tell us what you think;
they lose something in translation,
they might as well be printed in invisible ink.

Esoteric machinery,
the esoteric invisibly;
the esoteric is lost on me,
the esoteric invisibility.

Who made the world so complicated?
Who put the alpha in the ABC?
I wake myself up, shake myself up,
break myself apart but finally
the esoteric is lost on me.
The esoteric, no time to think,
The esoteric, written in invisible ink.

In invisible ink
indivisible link
in invisible ink.

Follow the instructions,
the envelope is sealed:
we're waiting on an update,
something like the reinvention of the wheel.
Who made the world so complicated?
Who made the watchword wait and see?
I wake myself up, shake myself up,
take myself apart but still can't see...
The esoteric is lost on me.

Follow the instructions:
they speak in many tongues,
in unlimited edition
and the last step on the ladder is the bottom rung.
The diagram is so confusing,
anagrammatical the mystery;
I wake myself up, shake myself up,
break myself apart and find in me
the esoteric machinery,
the esoteric invisibly.

Follow the instructions,
tell us what you think;
they lose something in translation,
they might as well be printed in invisible ink.

Esoteric machinery,
the esoteric invisibly;
the esoteric is lost on me,
the esoteric invisibility.

Who made the world so complicated?
Who put the alpha in the ABC?
I wake myself up, shake myself up,
break myself apart but finally
the esoteric is lost on me.
The esoteric, no time to think,
The esoteric, written in invisible ink.

In invisible ink
indivisible link
in invisible ink.

He prescribes the subject
He proscribes outsiders
His terms have a golden ring.
He wants to find some order

Quantifying chaos
In words that all the children sing.
He tabulates the lexicon
Vocabulary minimised

Bow down to the Jargon King.
All questions become so simple
If we eat the inane answer
If we all agree to ju-ju speak

We fit into the formula
We all without exception
Approve the rule.
We don't understand

He must be clever
He must be clever
He must be right
He must be right

We don't understand
Closed the ranks and barricades
Imposed the secret language
Complexity all catch-phrased

Word-drugged any anguish
Pigeon-holed allusions
Shut the vault behind us
It's an obvious conclusion

We'll be the chattels of His Highness.
Bow down to the Jargon King
And his minion code-words.
Here comes the reign

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?

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?

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?

I just can't see why you can't see what I mean,
but I can't make things any plainer, the words get in the way -
is that quite what I mean?
If not now, then certainly sooner or later
we've got a problem with communication -
look, I scrabble with my hands
I try to get some head-room from the elevation
but you just don't understand
Most of the things we say mean we most of the time
treat our speech with derision,
flap our hands in body-telegram - I know that gets through
so much better than anything said with precision,
We've got a problem with communication
and it's getting quite absurd,,,
Well, I think I'm going to flip out from the sheer frustration,
yes, I'm losing faith in words,
We've got a problem with communication,
only getting through in anagrams -
I try to get some linkage from articulation,
I try to get some head-room from the elevation,
I try to pull back something from my education,,,
Yes, I try to, try to, try to but I just don't understand,
I try, I just don't understand,
I talk, you just don't understand,
Sometimes I don't know why I bother,
but I'm bothered,

(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?)

(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?)

(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?)

God lives in the cathedral,
or so the Archbishop states...
all fealty to the Church,
all power to the state!

Gold keys to the cathedral,
they go with the bishop's cowl;
he lives a spiritual life of material wealth.
Are things so very different now?

Oh yeah,
oh now:
save your prayers for the future.
Say your prayers for the future.

Oh, God's gone from the cathedral,
a different power now holds sway,
we can pack them up in the history books
but the Middle Ages won't go away.

The answer to our prayers is a Valium by the bedside,
now we follow the pundits on TV,
now we put our faith in Science and Progress
and only have sex on our knees.

And those who are strange are still locked in asylums
and a sterile Pope proscribes the Pill
and those who are rich are still getting richer
and those who are poor still foot the bill.

And God lives in underground silos,
hanging on for Judgement Day;
if we don't open our eyes pretty soon
then the Dark Ages'll be here to stay.

Jericho's strange, throbbing with life at its heart -
people are drawn together, simultaneously torn apart....
Foundations are shattered in the city
inside the barricaded doors;
hiding behind their walls, lonely as night falls,
maybe the people are waiting for trumpets.

Babylon's strange, seventh wonder of the earth -
gardens ablaze in colour, slowly rotting in the dirt
and, with your head on fire, you can't really see.
The hanging gardens sing,
but with a hollow ring :
the life is false, it's killing me....

Don't look back or you'll turn to stone;
look around before your life is overgrown
with concrete slabs.
On your back the searching eyes that stab
between chintz curtains, glinting,
but never owning to a name...
like the inmates of asylums
all the citizens are contagiously insane....

Atlantis is strange, the explosion of an age -
no-one really knows what to do,
and the city is a cage.
It traps in ashen hours and concrete towers,
imprisons in the social order.
The city's lost its way,
madness takes hold today...
I can't live under water.

It was nothing, it came from nowhere at all, it was a casual remark,
Not a curtain-call.
Late for breakfast - black coffee, brandy-laced...
That look on your face.
I'll remember last night; I'll look out for the signs;
You were caught in the light
Ref.
Time after time
It's been my experience that when the row gets serious
A certain silence will fall...
But I just can't stop it, why don't you tell me what's wrong?
My heart goes like a rocket, the feeling's so strong.
I just can't stop it, why don't
You tell me what's wrong?
Don't think about it too long.
I could argue this another way, but on another day I might have to shout.
You keep your mouth shut, but it's too late for that now:
The word got out.
In translation it's lost, in desperation it's mimed;
Is this Paradise lost, or Paradise time after time?
Ref.

It was nothing, it came from nowhere at all, it was a casual remark,
Not a curtain-call.
Late for breakfast - black coffee, brandy-laced...
That look on your face.
I'll remember last night; I'll look out for the signs;
You were caught in the light
Ref.
Time after time
It's been my experience that when the row gets serious
A certain silence will fall...
But I just can't stop it, why don't you tell me what's wrong?
My heart goes like a rocket, the feeling's so strong.
I just can't stop it, why don't
You tell me what's wrong?
Don't think about it too long.
I could argue this another way, but on another day I might have to shout.
You keep your mouth shut, but it's too late for that now:
The word got out.
In translation it's lost, in desperation it's mimed;
Is this Paradise lost, or Paradise time after time?
Ref.

In my time I've told a lie or two,
I've been a deceiver, but believe me
what I now say is true.
There's no other way
I can express what I'm thinking of:
You're my favourite,
you're the one that I love.

It's a one-horse race,
still I'm ready to place my bet.
I'm a pretty slow starter,
and I haven't quite caught up with it yet.
It seems so extraordinary
that you should care for me.
You're my favourite ?
how lucky can any man be?

You're my favourite ?
will you stay the course with me?

You're my favourite of all time.
You're my favourite, can't you see?
You're my favourite of all time.
Say you'll stay the course with me.

I've been hanging around, waiting for my chance
to tell you what I think about the music that's gone down
to which you madly danced ? frankly, you know that it stinks.
I'm gonna scream, gonna shout, gonna play my guitar
until your body's rigid and you see stars.

Look at all the jerks in their tinsel glitter suits.
pansying around; look at all the nerks
in their leather platform boots, making with the heavy sound...
I'm gonna stamp on the stardust and scream till I'm ill ?
if the guitar don't get ya, the drums will.

Now's my big break ? let me up on the stage,
I'll show you what it's all about; enough of the fake,
bang your feet in a rage, tear down the walls and let us out!
We're more than mere morons, perpetually conned,
so come on everybody, smash the system with the song.

Smash the system with the song!