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i. Eyewitness

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 knights are numbered too.

I`ve

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/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 ancient myths

are solemnly directed straight at

you...

ii. Pictures/Lighthouse

(Eddies/rocks/ships/collision/remorse.)

iii. Eyewitness

No time now for contrition:

the time for that`s long past.

The walls are thin as tissue

and if I talk I`ll crack the glass.

So I only think on how it might have been,

locked in silent monologue, in silent scream

Anyway, I`m much too tired to speak

and, as the waves crash on the bleak

stones of the tower, I start to freak....

...and find that I am overcome...

iv. S.H.M.

`Unreal, unreal!` ghost helmsmen scream

and fall in through the sky,

not breaking through my seagull shrieks...

no breaks until I die:

hollowed faces, mindless grins

only intent on destroying what they`ve lost.

I craw the wall till steepness ends in the vertical fall;

my pail has sailed into the sea: no joking hopes at dawn.

White bone shine in the iron-jaw mask

lost mastheads pierce the freezing dark

and parallel my isolated tower....

no paraffin for the

flame

no harbour left to gain

v. The Presence of the Night/Kosmos Tours

`Alone, alone,` the ghosts all call,

pinpoint me in the light.

The only life I feel at all

is the presence of the night.

Would you cry if I died?

Would you cry if I died?

Would you catch the final words of mine?

Would you catch my words?

I know that there`s no time

I know that there`s no rhyme...

false signs find me

I don`t want to hate,

I just want to grow;

why can`t I let me

live and be free?..but I die very slowly alone.

I know no more ways,

I am so afraid,

myself won`t let me

just be myself and so I am completely alone....

The maelstrom of my memory

is a vampire and it feeds on me

now, staggering madly, over the brink I

fall.

vi. (Custard`s) Last Stand

Lighthouses might house the key

but can I reach the door?

I want to walk on the sea

so that I may better find ashore...

but how can I ever keep my feet dry?

I scan the horizon

I must keep my eyes on all parts of me.

Looking back on the years

it seems that I have lost

the way:

Like a dog in the night, I have run to a manger

...now I am the stranger I stay in.

All of the grief I have seen

leaves me chasing solitary peace;

but I hold experience in my head....

I`m too close to the light

I don`t think I see right, for I blind me....

vii. The Clot Thickens

WHERE is the God that guides my hand?

HOW can the hands of others reach me?

WHEN will I find what I grope for?

WHO is going to teach me?

I am me/me are we/we can`t see

any way out of here.

Crashing sea/atrophied history:

Chance has lost my Guinevere....

I don`t want to be one wave in the water

But sea will drag me deep

One more haggard DROWNED MAN...

I can see the Lemmings coming, but I know I`m just a man;

Do I join or do I founder? Which can is the best I may?

viii. Land`s End (Sineline)/We Go Now

Oceans drifting sideways, I am pulled into the spell;

I feel you around me...I know you well.

Stars slice horizons where the lines stand much too stark;

I feel I am drowning...hands stretch in the dark.

Camps of panoply and majesty, what is Freedom of Choice?

Where do I stand in the pageantry...whose is my voice?

It doesn`t feel so very bad now: I think the end is the start.

Begin to feel very glad now:

ALL THINGS ARE A PART

ALL THINGS ARE APART

ALL THINGS ARE A PART.

i. Eyewitness

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 knights are numbered too.

I`ve

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/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 ancient myths

are solemnly directed straight at

you...

ii. Pictures/Lighthouse

(Eddies/rocks/ships/collision/remorse.)

iii. Eyewitness

No time now for contrition:

the time for that`s long past.

The walls are thin as tissue

and if I talk I`ll crack the glass.

So I only think on how it might have been,

locked in silent monologue, in silent scream

Anyway, I`m much too tired to speak

and, as the waves crash on the bleak

stones of the tower, I start to freak....

...and find that I am overcome...

iv. S.H.M.

`Unreal, unreal!` ghost helmsmen scream

and fall in through the sky,

not breaking through my seagull shrieks...

no breaks until I die:

hollowed faces, mindless grins

only intent on destroying what they`ve lost.

I craw the wall till steepness ends in the vertical fall;

my pail has sailed into the sea: no joking hopes at dawn.

White bone shine in the iron-jaw mask

lost mastheads pierce the freezing dark

and parallel my isolated tower....

no paraffin for the

flame

no harbour left to gain

v. The Presence of the Night/Kosmos Tours

`Alone, alone,` the ghosts all call,

pinpoint me in the light.

The only life I feel at all

is the presence of the night.

Would you cry if I died?

Would you cry if I died?

Would you catch the final words of mine?

Would you catch my words?

I know that there`s no time

I know that there`s no rhyme...

false signs find me

I don`t want to hate,

I just want to grow;

why can`t I let me

live and be free?..but I die very slowly alone.

I know no more ways,

I am so afraid,

myself won`t let me

just be myself and so I am completely alone....

The maelstrom of my memory

is a vampire and it feeds on me

now, staggering madly, over the brink I

fall.

vi. (Custard`s) Last Stand

Lighthouses might house the key

but can I reach the door?

I want to walk on the sea

so that I may better find ashore...

but how can I ever keep my feet dry?

I scan the horizon

I must keep my eyes on all parts of me.

Looking back on the years

it seems that I have lost

the way:

Like a dog in the night, I have run to a manger

...now I am the stranger I stay in.

All of the grief I have seen

leaves me chasing solitary peace;

but I hold experience in my head....

I`m too close to the light

I don`t think I see right, for I blind me....

vii. The Clot Thickens

WHERE is the God that guides my hand?

HOW can the hands of others reach me?

WHEN will I find what I grope for?

WHO is going to teach me?

I am me/me are we/we can`t see

any way out of here.

Crashing sea/atrophied history:

Chance has lost my Guinevere....

I don`t want to be one wave in the water

But sea will drag me deep

One more haggard DROWNED MAN...

I can see the Lemmings coming, but I know I`m just a man;

Do I join or do I founder? Which can is the best I may?

viii. Land`s End (Sineline)/We Go Now

Oceans drifting sideways, I am pulled into the spell;

I feel you around me...I know you well.

Stars slice horizons where the lines stand much too stark;

I feel I am drowning...hands stretch in the dark.

Camps of panoply and majesty, what is Freedom of Choice?

Where do I stand in the pageantry...whose is my voice?

It doesn`t feel so very bad now: I think the end is the start.

Begin to feel very glad now:

ALL THINGS ARE A PART

ALL THINGS ARE APART

ALL THINGS ARE A PART.

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