Idle ambitions
And unattainable goals
Squandered by those
Who don’t even know

They don’t know where you’ve been
They’ll never know where you’ll go
They won’t give you a chance
To even show them your soul.
They can’t comprehend that
There is so much more
Behind those green eyes
In that mind of yours.

Anxieties raise
As they wander below
Unable to relax until
You are finally alone
Alone with your thoughts
And alone with your dreams
The ones you’ll never say
The ones you can never speak

**They don’t know where you’ve been
They’ll never know where you’ll go
They won’t give you a chance
To even show them your soul
They can’t comprehend that
There is so much more
Behind those green eyes
In that mind of yours.

The world's so queer, and yet you show surprise
to find him solid in the midday light.
He looks at you with strangely laughing eyes.
You told yourself you're sure to recognise
the green-clad arms, the ring upon the right;
the world's so queer, and yet you show surprise?
His name won't pass your lips. You know... those guys.
You know his name. At least you think you might.
He looks at you with strangely laughing eyes.
The happy folk? And after many tries
you force a smile, a single smile, polite.
"The world's so queer, and yet you show surprise...
You've seen me here before, contrariwise;
You can't pretend you don't recall the sight."
He looks at you with strangely laughing eyes.
(Your sister's outer clothing all of lies.)
(Your brother was a changeling in the night.)
The world's so queer, and yet you show surprise.
He looks at you with strangely laughing eyes.

This wall you build around angelic things
to keep their halos shiny-bright, instead
you'll never hear the sound of downy wings.

These Precious Moments smiles and wedding-rings
(for mixed-*** couples only), when they wed,
this airtight wall around angelic things,

a thousand miles from where a seraph sings
God's love for hated folk and underfed;
you'll never hear the sound of downy wings

unless you break the prejudice that brings
the boundary where angels fear to tread,
this airtight wall around angelic things

that shutters out angelic visitings,
or when you too are dying on your bed
you'll never hear the sound of downy wings.

you never know with whom they'll break their bread,
or so the writer to the Hebrews said;
This wall you build around angelic things
Will never hear the sound of downy wings.

Lorraine exits outside the realm of life
But in my heart she always has a home
Her choice to stop the demon cost a price

Her mind became a circus too insane
Believing visions of religious ilk
Lorraine exits outside the realm of life

Now she’s at peace, I miss her but not sad
She stopped the madness, stopped the voices track
Her choice to stop the demon cost a price

I wonder what she would have grown to be?
Would she have overcome the chains that bound?
Lorraine exits outside the realm of life

My sister was my mentor, for a while
Until the life she knew lost all control
Her choice to stop the demon cost a price

And may she rest with knowledge we’re ok
The ones she left behind that fateful day
Lorraine exits outside the realm of life
Her choice to stop the demon cost a price

And I have nothing else to do again
But walk these halls and wish I wasn't here,
But picking berries in a country lane.
A shadow is my face, the dust my brain,
My voice is but an echo in your ear.
And I have nothing else to do again
But counting every pace to keep me sane.
Dead as I am, I've nothing else to fear.
But, picking berries in a country lane;
Within me lives the spectre of a pain,
The ache of endless summer, yesteryear,
And I have nothing else to do again
But live in memory without my chain
And walk an aimless autumn Cambridgeshire...
But picking berries in a country lane.

Each universe must reach its long refrain.
A moment all my chains must disappear
And I'll have nothing else to do again
But picking berries in a country lane.

If life should ever leave you left behind
just take a holiday. I'll stay with you
within a small hotel I call my mind.

A quieter place to stay you'd never find.
I'm hoping you'll remember what to do
if life should ever leave you left behind;

remember me, if you should be so kind.
And though I sometimes decorate in blue
within a small hotel I call my mind,

in every room I've written and I've signed
a note reminding you my love is true,
if life should ever leave you left behind;

and every evening finds us intertwined;
and every morning finds the bed as new
within a small hotel I call my mind.

A week becomes a century or two;
and when you're checking out, I'll follow too.
If life should ever leave you left behind
within a small hotel I call my mind.

My inside's on the out, the day I die,
Though (here and now) my inside's on the in.
Spread out like spirit butter on the sky,
the sunrise flaunts its colours in my eye
like all I'm not, sequestered here in sin.
My inside's on the out, the day I die,
yet here the world's outside and I am I,
divided from the cosmos by my skin.
Spread out like spirit butter on the sky
the clouds reflect my soul, the lights on high
are macrocosms matching what's within;
My inside's on the out. The day I die
is creeping slowly closer. By and by
will freedom of my captive self begin,
spread out like spirit butter on the sky.
And separated out, I still may sigh,
The waiting's brief, the barrier is thin;
My inside's on the out, the day I die,
Spread out like spirit butter on the sky.