I thought I'd give it up for good, 'cause none of my actions are understood. I thought I'd really leave, and my coming back's something you'd never perceive
Just one crazy moment while the dice are cast, He looks into the future and remembers what is past, Wonders what he's doing on this battlefield, Shrugs
(Hammill) The captain's in a coma, the lieutenant's on a drunk; the owner's in his cabin with his special friend, the monk; the midget's on the bridge
(Hammill) Citadel reverberates to a thousand voices, now dumb: What have we become? What have we chosen to be? Now, all history is reduced to the syllables
Horus the Good lived in the North In lands of fertility and beauty But Set stayed in the hard desert To him belonged all drought and perversity And he
(i) Eyewitness ( Hammill ) Still waiting for my saviour, storms tear me limb from limb my fingers feel like seaweed, I'm so far out I'm too far in.
(Hammill) Oh, the Sisters of Blindness from the Convent of the Broken Heart, they want to smother it with kindness, they want to tear it all apart. And
i. THE EMPEROR Standing in the space that holds the silent lace of night away from you You think that you can
(Hammill) Letters in pencil, some of them as heavy as lead, as dated as carbon, as black as coal, but burning as red. Clues faintly stencilled: the message
At night, this mindless army, ranks unbroken by dissent, Is moved into action and their pace does not relent. In step, with great precision, these dancers
1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4 Just one breath, and it's instant death It's the aerosol grey machine Just one breath, and it's instant death It's the aerosol grey
We left the earth in 1983, fingers groping for the galaxies Reddened eyes stared up into the void, 1000 stars to be exploited Somebody help me, I'm falling
(Hammill) I remember what it felt like at seventeen: I was a cat, a snake, a lizard, a mouse. Still got an interest in the limousine and a spouse and
Here at the glass, all the usual problems All the habitual farce You ask in uncertain voice, what you should do As if there were a choice but to carry
(Hammill) Lacking sleep and food and vision here I am again, encamped upon your floor, craving sanctuary and nourishment, encouragement and sanctity
(Hammill) The wave hits the beach, writing words on the sand; to the academic man, this could be the answer.... In fact, it's no more than a hunch. Still
(Hammill) Sometimes living for the moment sometimes going with the flow sometimes professing to be an exponent of the quiet life while night life surrounds
(Hammill) ... You're so young, you're so here, so gone, so old, so near, so wrong, such a drag so queer, so strong, so... to be told. Such a drag to