The roll of distant thunder breaks, the afternoon of silence wakes. They hurry through from Petergate as if they know this dance. In fury blind, I drive at night across the moors, the open roads.
It is written and so shall be. That all things will come to an end. But if we have to go. Then it's all coming with us. Come hell & high water. It must be, it must be.
I know that it happened, I know that story. But that was years and years ago. Still you're pushing and still you're claiming. The pound of flesh you say I owe.
He said - come on now little darling, if you love me like you say. You can just lie there and sniff the smoke, you don't have to use your vein. And you knew all the stories, but this sweet boy would never do you harm.
We're out here on the borders with our favourite few possessions. Traded stories whispered round the fire. As shadows in the searchlights, mugshots in the files.
(Sullivan/Heaton/Nelson). Today, as you listen to this song, another 394,000 children. were born into this world....they break like waves of. hunger and desire upon these eroded shores....carrying.
We are not children any more. The fists you made they are come bashing at your door. Your legacy is waiting in the wings. And there's something so familiar in the hunger that we bring.
Today, as you listen to this song. Another 394,000 children were born into this world. They break like waves of hunger and desire upon these eroded shores.
Lit up like a Christmas tree, the oil refinery glows in the night;. and down by the shoreline the seagulls fly white, against the black.. The great moon riding shotgun - rolling out across the veil of clouds,.
When I was young I dreamed and dreamed. About all the things that I was going to be. A brave explorer holding court or a really famous astronaut. A handsome pop star on the screen or captain of the England team.
The time I think most clearly, the time I drift away. Is on the bus-ride that meanders up these valleys of green and grey. I get to think about what might have been and what may yet come true.
Well, you never grow up, you just get older, carrying. all the familiar burdens with you, walking back on. the hometown streets on a night devoid of stars..
Come with me my little innocents, there's a game that we can play. See how much we can change your world while you look the other way. Turn around as if to see if you can catch us cheat.
It took fourteen hours to hitch from London to Portsmouth. I can picture you in your battered old coat. Blown by the trucks on the side of the road. Cursing the world just until one pulls over.
It's a long warm September and we're both still alive. And the sea is like a painting beneath the mirrored sky. Raise the dead, raise the dead. We'll go riding on the ghost train, together raise the dead.
Get up early every morning just to put your make up on. The wardrobe's full of useless clothes, your winter coats are gone. The jackal pack is feeding, the motorway sweeps down.
It's time to rebuilding Dresden, the great machines come a-rumbling in. The desecration of the ruins and everything that might have been. You showed me the square in the melting snow.
It's all out on the streets today but you, you've found a place to hide. Too busy with the rat race, you pass by on the other side. Yours is the face of the brand new Britain with blinkers on your eyes.
Red dots - close my eyes - tunnel vision. the cooling towers like Cathedrals. Pitch black dark, brighter than the sun. Less than zero, more than infinity.
All the mistakes that I have made. All the things I should have seen but I looked away. All the things we should have shared that we kept to ourselves.