(Sullivan). I put my hands into the roaring flames. I felt the pain as it started to burn. I've done the same thing over again and again. As if I never ever wanted to learn.
In the white washed cancer ward with my hot blood running wild. I see the pain behind your eyes and the search for a reason. And the knowing and the fear of the passing season.
I put my hands into the roaring flames. I felt the pain as it started to burn. I've done the same thing over again and again. As if I never ever wanted to learn.
How did they do this to you?. How did they do this to you?. Were you the weapon that they used. As they tore apart the family. Did they bring you here as they were passing through?.
Joey puts her make-up on really well. She looks cool in the flashing lights. And all the boys gossip about the shape of her legs. On these muddled up and drunken nights.
I said - Father, I'm going to change the world. He said - Don't you think that maybe, son. It's changed enough already?. Don't try to justify the things you live by.
Stevie said now don't look round they're watching us. Two girls in the corner of that dodgy club. And the grey eyes, the storm that I've come to know and wish for.
Took a drink from the bottle in my coat. I can smell it now like it was yesterday. The cold November winds biting round those Bradford streets. Going downtown to the club where your band used to play.
The bonfires blazed across the city, the smoke swirling into the sky. We were standing shoulder to shoulder, Billy McCann and I. Our faces ruddy and burning as we stared into the flames.
They started work this morning down at city square. They're pulling down the statues of our great grandfather's hero. The new books said he wasn't such a great man after all.
Another foggy night in hometown. Cruising the backstreet pubs with a friend or two. I guess we were laughing how we made it through the bad old days. When across the bar I caught a glimpse of you.
To the thoughts of the many from the minds of the few. Voice of reason, censored view. The truth is the News and the News is the truth. As if that'll do as a lame excuse for.
We walk every morning in silence. Past the mills on Whetley Lane. Where the lights went out for the very last time. And they never came on again. The spokesman all shred crocodiles tears.
Kandy's coming home 11.45 today. I'll take the battered car and meet her down outside the gates. She says we're going back to where it all began. Now that the prices have been paid and all the penance done.
Such a sensitive opinion in one so young. Would you like to know about everything that we've done. You believe what you read in the printed lies. But you won't believe the evidence of your own eyes.
There's a witch hunt coming, screaming out on it's rebirth. There's a crusade coming, Hellfire's back here on earth. See the light in their eyes shine, listen to their words like swords.
The sky is broken in grey and in silver. The wind blows clean. We watch the shadows chase across the hillside. And out to sea. You and I, we're nearly full circle.
Pushing up on Carlisle Road into the seething shadows. Through the plastic visor - a hail of broken kerbstone. Fire-lit-faces, all the noise - so much hatred.
My friend, is it still ringing in your ears. Through all those blessed and poisoned years. You will still say I was wrong. But you'll miss me when I'm gone.
Bury the hatchet with a smile and a curse. The world is big enough for both of us. The pack's been shuffled now - we've got different hands. There's different enemies for both of us now.