Неозаглавленное (1978)

Неозаглавленное (1978)

I can see a thousand wills just bending in the night.

And all the pretty faces painted grey to match the sky,

From a distance seeing friends just washed up on the shore

A picture in my mind of what’s to come before the storm.

In time, we don’t belong in our own lifetime.

I can hear the voices lost in echoes as they build,

New homes to hide the sadness that the search for more had killed,

From a by road seeing friends just washed up on the shore.

Picture in my mind of what’s to come before the storm.

In time, we don’t belong in our own lifetime.

I can feel an emptiness and see heads held in shame,

Trapped inside a legacy of everyone to blame.

In the distance see myself just washed up on the shore,

A picture in my mind of what will come before the storm.

In time, we don’t belong to our own lifetime.

We won’t crawl and never show our faces,

We’ll stand firm and never show the traces,

Of the fear we knew but always could disguise,

Of this sinking feeling hid behind our eyes.