Slow, Strong and steady, that's who wins this race. The end carries little confetti, thank evolution, I love the pace,. The proportion, the sustain in the space of the now..
In the short time. That I have spent here. In this ghastly plane. I've come to find. There are so many things. That should be changed. Like the relationship.
I feel so outside, of the realms of the stitching.. So very inside, arms frailing and kicking. Symbolically I'm taking hold. Harmonically my soul is sold to me.
Excuse me sir. I'm lost. I'm looking for a place. where I can get lost. I'm looking for a home. For my malfunctioning being. I'm looking for the mechanical music museum.
Michael!. . My, my, what have you done with your hair? Looking for the Black Book, eh? You remember, don't you?. . D'you think I could forget?. . You're nothing but a worthless whore, just a useless bloody worthless whore!.
There came a time I'd had all I could take. Life on the edge, my mind about to break. Parents said they'd warned me and my friends said. It's a shame.
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I can see it coming clear. Trapped inside four walls as strong as steel. Bound and tied, locked inside. No-one knows the power I can feel. . Looking for a cause without a reason.
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(Narration). Nobody could have conceived in the final decade of the 20th century. That our humble affairs were being manipulated by computer interface..
Drawers of water - hewers of wood,. Biting their tonques as if they know what's good for them.. Floating voters perched high upon fences in flame.. . Charmed by pipes - drugged with ale,.
High above the sleeping city streets where we've all grown. A silent evil Slithers through the dawn.. Blissful in our ignorance - God how could we have known.
My mind was a timebomb. That was set to explode. So I packed up my cares. Into the sunset I rode. A path to hell that's paved. With good intentions.. .
Where the past meets the present we walk hand in hand,. Barefoot and naked--but kings of our land,. The souls of my forefathers course through my veins as I watch the.
Another bad break - burst another bubble. Another lost cause - here's another trouble. Another heart ache - one more chance gone. Another lost chord in yet another wrong song..
(It's a load of old John Bull). Cruel Britannia ruled the waves, Empire. oiled by toiling slaves. White flag stained. St.George Cross red, and blues sung for.
I stand here before you. The way life has made me. Ill mannered, foul mouthed. Bad tempered and lazy. I stare at your world. Down the neck of a bottle.
A wise man's son and Wednesday's child in each other found a friend,. And searched together for the treasure hiding at the rainbow's end.. To wise man's son and Wednesday's child all is white that is not black,.
Harbringer of death and slaughter -. (next time round you'll be the slain). Refuse the dying man your water -. (thirst when you come back again).. Don't spare the rod don't spoil the child -.
A red letter day for our nowhere industrial town. A minister's heading this way - he's closing us down. But what of my daughter - and what of my son. Just how will they live when the factory's gone?.