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(fish / marillion) |
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Vodka intimate, an affair with isolation in a blackheath cell |
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Extinguishing the fires in a private hell |
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Provoking the heartache to renew the licence |
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Of a bleeding heart poet in a fragile capsule |
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Propping up the crust of the glitter conscience |
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Wrapped in the christening shawl of a hangover |
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Baptised in the tears from the real |
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Tears from the real |
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Drowning in the liquid seize on the piccadilly line, rat race |
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Scuttling through the damp electric labyrinth |
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Caress ophelias hand with breathstroke ambition |
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An albatross in the marrytime tradition |
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Sheathed within the walkman wear the halo of distortion |
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Aural contraceptive aborting pregnant conversation |
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She turned the harpoon and it pierced my heart |
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She hung herself around my neck |
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From the time-life-guardians in their conscience bubbles |
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Safe and dry in my sea of troubles |
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Nine to five with suitable ties |
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Cast adrift as their sideshow, peepshow, stereo hero |
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Becalm bestill, bewitch |
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Drowning in the real |
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The thief of baghdad hides in islingtown now |
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Praying deportation for his sacred cow |
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A legacy of romance from a twilight world |
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The dowry of a relative mystery girl |
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A vietnamese flower, a dockland union |
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A mistress of release from a magazine's thighs |
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Magdalenes contracts more than favours |
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The feeding hands of western promise hold her by the throat |
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A son of a swastika of '45 parading a peroxide standard |
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Graffiti disciples conjure testaments of hatred |
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Aerosol wands whisper where the searchlights trim the barbed wire hedges |
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This is brixton chess |
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A knight for embankment folds his newspaper castle |
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A creature of habit, begs the boatman's coin |
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He'll fade with old soldiers in the grease stained roll call |
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And linger with the heartburn of good friday's last supper |
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Son watches father scan obituary columns in search of absent school friends |
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While his generation digests high fibre ignorance |
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Cowering behind curtains and the taped up painted windows |
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Decriminalised genocide, provided door to door belsens |
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Pandora's box of holocausts gracefully cruising satellite infested heavens |
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Waiting, wai-wai-waiting, the season of the button |
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The penultimate migration |
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Radioactive perfumes |
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For the fashionably |
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For the terminally insane, insane |
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D-d-do you realise? |
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D-d-do you realise? |
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D-d-do you realise, this world is totally fugazi |
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Where are the prophets |
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Where are the visionaries |
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Where are the poets |
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To breach the dawn of the sentimental mercenary |
