| Song | Material Possession |
| Artist | Peter Hammill |
| Album | X my Heart |
| 作词 : Hammill | |
| Every loss a legacy, | |
| every gain ill-gotten, | |
| the golden apples on the tree are all potentially rotten. | |
| Pluck the fruit and bear no mind, | |
| so the poisonous bloom advances – | |
| the hand that clasps too tight will never grasp its chances. | |
| All the things that you've got will not be worth a lot | |
| if the owning becomes an obsession | |
| meaning nothing more than mere material possession. | |
| Broken, lost, the precious thing, | |
| does that make your life so empty? | |
| stars shine alike upon the ditch and on the land of Plenty. | |
| The thing that's gone was always going to be gone, | |
| what's left is some remembered pleasure – | |
| only their loss confirms the things we ever learned to treasure. | |
| And the things that you claim are only ever yours in name – | |
| do you think that they'll leave an impression? | |
| Only flesh and bone are the true material possessions. | |
| Your lighter's worth a watch, your watch would buy a car, | |
| your car is worth a house with rooms to rattle round in. | |
| Try to make the house a home that's yours and yours alone: | |
| you dredge a lake of dreams to fill with tears and drown in. | |
| Now the flame will soon be dowsed and time is running out, | |
| the wheel will turn full circle, then we'll all be foundlings. | |
| And all the things that we own are never ours alone, | |
| no, they just pass through our hands in succession – | |
| shake the spirit, shake the blood, shake the flesh and shake the bone | |
| shake free from material possession. | |
| Every loss is treasure trove, every gain is faded, | |
| every taste and every touch will finally be jaded. | |
| When in the end all life is spent | |
| what we bought was mere digression: | |
| the price we pay shaking free from material possession. |
| zuò cí : Hammill | |
| Every loss a legacy, | |
| every gain illgotten, | |
| the golden apples on the tree are all potentially rotten. | |
| Pluck the fruit and bear no mind, | |
| so the poisonous bloom advances | |
| the hand that clasps too tight will never grasp its chances. | |
| All the things that you' ve got will not be worth a lot | |
| if the owning becomes an obsession | |
| meaning nothing more than mere material possession. | |
| Broken, lost, the precious thing, | |
| does that make your life so empty? | |
| stars shine alike upon the ditch and on the land of Plenty. | |
| The thing that' s gone was always going to be gone, | |
| what' s left is some remembered pleasure | |
| only their loss confirms the things we ever learned to treasure. | |
| And the things that you claim are only ever yours in name | |
| do you think that they' ll leave an impression? | |
| Only flesh and bone are the true material possessions. | |
| Your lighter' s worth a watch, your watch would buy a car, | |
| your car is worth a house with rooms to rattle round in. | |
| Try to make the house a home that' s yours and yours alone: | |
| you dredge a lake of dreams to fill with tears and drown in. | |
| Now the flame will soon be dowsed and time is running out, | |
| the wheel will turn full circle, then we' ll all be foundlings. | |
| And all the things that we own are never ours alone, | |
| no, they just pass through our hands in succession | |
| shake the spirit, shake the blood, shake the flesh and shake the bone | |
| shake free from material possession. | |
| Every loss is treasure trove, every gain is faded, | |
| every taste and every touch will finally be jaded. | |
| When in the end all life is spent | |
| what we bought was mere digression: | |
| the price we pay shaking free from material possession. |