| Song | Flying Through the Smoke |
| Artist | New Model Army |
| Album | Eight |
| 作词 : Heaton, Sullivan | |
| 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 | |
| Forever the graphics curling on the screen | |
| Forever the numbers counting on and on | |
| Flying through the smoke, flying through the smoke | |
| See the body of people move across the floor | |
| Dancing turning wheeling in the spinning lights | |
| I remember the music and the noise so loud | |
| All I could see was you moving your mouth | |
| Tell me what was it you were trying to say | |
| Tell me what was it you were trying to say | |
| And all the time everything was moving away | |
| like a slo-mo shot as the camera pulls across the crowd | |
| across the faces caught in the last few seconds of life | |
| And you - like a ghost at the feast | |
| your eyes so small and dark and dead - you were uninvited | |
| And me - trying to remember how nobody saw you | |
| sitting next to me on the bus as it turned into Mainstreet | |
| and the bomb in the bag at your feet | |
| What was it you were trying to say | |
| Tell me what was it you were trying to say | |
| Flying through the smoke in a deafening roar | |
| Screaming in the panic as the whirlwind hits | |
| Tell me what was it you were trying to say | |
| Too late to listen now |
| zuò cí : Heaton, Sullivan | |
| 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 | |
| Forever the graphics curling on the screen | |
| Forever the numbers counting on and on | |
| Flying through the smoke, flying through the smoke | |
| See the body of people move across the floor | |
| Dancing turning wheeling in the spinning lights | |
| I remember the music and the noise so loud | |
| All I could see was you moving your mouth | |
| Tell me what was it you were trying to say | |
| Tell me what was it you were trying to say | |
| And all the time everything was moving away | |
| like a slomo shot as the camera pulls across the crowd | |
| across the faces caught in the last few seconds of life | |
| And you like a ghost at the feast | |
| your eyes so small and dark and dead you were uninvited | |
| And me trying to remember how nobody saw you | |
| sitting next to me on the bus as it turned into Mainstreet | |
| and the bomb in the bag at your feet | |
| What was it you were trying to say | |
| Tell me what was it you were trying to say | |
| Flying through the smoke in a deafening roar | |
| Screaming in the panic as the whirlwind hits | |
| Tell me what was it you were trying to say | |
| Too late to listen now |