(Waiting for) The Ice Age (1977) (Первый текст, использовавшийся для этой песни)

(Waiting for) The Ice Age (1977)

(Первый текст, использовавшийся для этой песни)

Scratching out atrocity,

Splintered in the sand,

In a deathshroud looking back,

Walking hand in hand.

Draw the lines onto your face,

To make it look brand new,

Nothing here will fit in place,

To screen the likes of you.

Stranded in hostility,

Buried further down,

Waiting in a churchyard,

For the sons to come around,

Burning down conventions now,

To give me all the proof,

Nothing here will hold somehow,

To give a glimpse of truth.

Searching for some other life,

To hide behind your door,

On a strange wave plunging down,

With hopes for little more,

Someone might have changed somewhere,

To bring us into line,

All so near to hit and run,

To cut the gaps in time.

Waiting for the cold to come,

To face one final stand,

Viewing scenes in black and white,

Walking hand in hand,

Reaching from the distance,

To find some strength again.