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.
|
I am a lonely man, my solitude is true
|
my eyes have borne stark witness
|
and now my nights are numbered, too.
|
|
I've seen the smiles on dead hands,
|
the stars shine, but they're not for me.
|
|
I prophesy disaster and then I count the cost...
|
I shine but, shining, dying,
|
I know that I am almost lost.
|
On the table lies blank paper
|
and my tower is built on stone
|
I only have blunt scissors,
|
I only have the bluntest home...
|
I've been the witness, and the seal of death
|
lingers in the molten wax that is my head.
|
|
When you see the skeletons
|
of sailing-ship spars sinking low
|
You'll begin to wonder if the points
|
of all the ancients myths
|
are solemnly directed straight at you...
|
|
-----------------
|
A Plague Of Lighthouse Keepers: Eyewitness
|
Van Der Graaf Generator |