Written by Steven Wilson
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We lost the skyline
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We stepped right off the map
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Drifted in to blank space
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And let the clocks relapse
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We laughed the rain down
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Slow burn on the lawn
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Ghosts across the delta
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Swallowed up the storm
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Sometimes I feel like a fist
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Sometimes I am the colour of air
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Sometimes it's only afterwards
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I find that I'm not there
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In the dream dusk
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We walked beside the lake
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We watched the sky move sideways
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And heard the evening break
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I Find That I'm Not There
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Porcupine Tree |