|
Stiltskin |
|
The Mind's Eye |
|
Inside |
|
Swing low in dark glass hour |
|
you turn to cover |
|
see it turn to dust |
|
move on a stone dark night |
|
we take to flight |
|
swonfall turns to rust |
|
seam in a fusing mine |
|
like a nursing rhyme |
|
fat man starts to fall |
|
year in a hostile place |
|
I hear your face |
|
start to call |
|
and If you think that I've been loosing my way |
|
that's because I'm slightly blinded |
|
If you think that I don't make to much sense, |
|
that's because I'm broken minded |
|
But don't keep it... |
|
INSIDE |
|
if you belive it |
|
don't keep it all inside |
|
strong words in a ganges sky |
|
I have to lie |
|
shadows moves in pairs |
|
Ring out from a brusied postcard |
|
in the shooting yard |
|
looking throught the tears |
|
out of the black slate time |
|
we move in line |
|
but never reach an end |
|
fall in a long stray town |
|
as the ice comes down |
|
rivers start to bend |
|
CHORUS: |