A broken skeleton keyOur house in our castle
On the hills the horees glow
Nights in white elephant porcelain glory days
Take them slow
Dust of HeavenVoices from the well
sing the latest news.
The river lost the race,
Steps were rolling down the stairway.
The ancient man above just
Can't make up his mind.
Dust of heaven in my hand.
Going to Where the Tea-Trees AreI fell just before.
I don't know why.
Just couldn't walk anymore,
something in my way.
Now my steps are smaller,
a little smaller than before.
So I will go to where the tea trees turn to wine.
May DayMay Day is rioting in the streets
The corner shop is closed
The pier had been torched
The act of creation changes skin
It should be time to buckle up
And time to break up
It is the first of May
ParliamentMy trumpets are down,
the wind callously composed.
The guitar is gone
and the rest of the band transposed.
But, I stick to single notes
and things I understand
I'm still a stranger in this land
Silent as GoldThe blue hour whispers
What we won't say.
Our steps won't get lost
In the city.
We hid among the raindrops,
Both thinking a bit too loud
Of the Outland Road.
I guess fate was just winking.
The Story of the ImpossibleWhatever happened to the great escape
The finest enemy.
Crafted with pride by monsters on the train.
The world is great to suckers
We have the story of the impossible
A tale passed on so frail
One of make-belief
WombaraThe winter show was right on time,
windy days on a cliff.
They were waiting by the shore
frozen figures in the dark.
I'm a thousand miles away
from that old midsummer day,
i'm diving in the cold night,