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[ L Y R I C S ]

The Least We Can Do Is Wave To Each Other

Darkness (11/11) Whatever Would Robert Have Said?

Day dawns dark, it now numbers I am the suck of air you take
infinity. that you've had many times before;
Life crawls from the past, watching I am the blow you try to fake,
in wonder but which still throws you out the
I trace its patterns in me. door;
Tomorrow's tomorrow is birth again. I am the air that fills your lungs,
Boats burn the bridge in the fens; but leaves you emptier below;
the time of the past returns to my I am the void that you can't explain,
life but which is where you want to go.
and uses it.
Flame sucks between the balls of
Don't blame me for the letters steel;
that may form in the sand; nothing moves, the air itself
don't look in my eyes, you may see congeals.
all the numbers Look at the flame if you want to,
that stretch in my sky and colour hear the sharp crack of the fission,
my hand. smell the brief vapour of ozone,
Don't say that I'm wrong in feel static motion.
imagining
that the voice of my life cannot I am the love you try to hide,
sing. but which all can understand;
Fate enters and talks in old words: I am the hate you still deny,
They amuse it. though the blood is on your hands;
I am the peace you're searching for,
The hands shine darkly and white: but you know you'll never find;
only in dark they appear. I am the pain you can't endure,
Bless the baby born today, but which tingles in your mind.
flying in pitch, flying on fear.
Flame sucks between the balls of
They shine in my eyes and touch my steel;
face nothing moves, the air itself
where I have seen them placed congeals.
before; Look at the flame if you want to,
don't blame me, please, for the hear the sharp crack of the fission,
fate that falls: smell the brief vapour of ozone,
I did not choose it. feel static motion.
I did not, no no, I did not
I truly did not choose it. I am the joy you really pay for,
but which comes completely free;
I am your god on the final day,
Refugees for the truth is you and me...

North was somewhere years ago and Out of my Book
cold:
Ice locked the people's hearts and We sat by ourselves, still looking
made them old. for company;
South was birth to pleasant lands, there could have been peace, but that
but dry: eluded me -
I walked the waters' depths and all I could think of was what was on
played my mind. my mind.
East was dawn, coming alive in the You tried to be kind,
golden sun: but I blocked your feelings.
the winds came, gently, several Now, senses still reeling, you sit in
heads became one your quiet room and cry.
in the summertime, though august You tried to make me one,
people sneered; but I always hide when there's a
we were at peace, and we cheered. glimpse of sun.

We walked alone, sometimes hand in Running along in sunlight meadows,
hand, your eyes were never more than
between the thin lines marking sea half-closed:
and sand; through fluttering lashes, you
smiling very peacefully, watched me watching you.
we began to notice that we could be I tried to be true
free, to the way that you thought I ought
and we moved together to the West. to be
but, in spite of all my efforts,
West is where all days will someday I failed.
end; I tried to make you see
where the colours turn from grey to but your eyes are blind to all but
gold, the bad in me.
and you can be with the friends.
And light flakes the golden clouds What do you think I mean
above all; when I say that I need you?
West is Mike and Susie, How am I supposed to seem
West is where I love. when we hit another problem
and the answers are all torn from my
There we shall spend our final days book?
of our lives;
tell the same old stories: yeah Our lives are on paths we just can't
well, control;
at least we tried. we can grow closer as we get old.
Into the West, smiles on our faces, Can you imagine us as we adjust?
we'll go; Can you imagine us
oh, yes, and our apologies to those getting near eighty;
who'll never really know the way. we live more sedately,
still hoping the dreams will come
We're refugees, walking away from true?
the life We'll try to be secure.
that we've known and loved;
nothing to do or say, nowhere to But I'm of uncertain mind
stay; and how can I be sure?
now we are alone. How can I be sure?
We're refugees, carrying all we own
in brown bags, tied up with string;
nothing to think, it doesn't mean a After the Flood
thing,
but we'll be happy on our own. Continuing the story, humanity
West is Mike and Susie; stumbles -
West is where I love, gone is the glory, there's a far
West is refugees' home. distant rumble.
The clouds have gathered and exploded
now:
White Hammer axes shattered, there is no North or
South.
In the year 1486 the Malleus first Far off, the ice is foundering
appeared, slowly,
designed to kill all witchcraft and the ice is turning to water,
end the papal fears: the ice is turning to water.
prescribing tortures to kill the
Black Arts; The water rushes over all
and the Hammer struck hard. cities crash in the mighty wave;
the final man is very small,
Malleus Maleficarum slaughtered and plunging in for his final bathe.
tortured
all those under suspicion, as the This is the ending of the beginning,
Inquisistion ordered this is the beginning of the end,
- burning black hearts and middle of the middle, mid-point, end
innocents alike, and start:
killing the mad; the first peak rises, forces the
such was the power the Hammer had. waves apart.
Far off, the ice is now re-forming:
Though Hexenhammer was intended to poles are fixed once more,
slay only evil, water's receding, like death-blood.
fear and anger against magic
overspilled: And when the water falls again,
they also killed those of the all is dead and nobody lives.
White.
And then he said:
So for two centuries and more they 'Every step appears to be
tried to slay the unavoidable consequence of the
both the Black and the White Arts - preceding one,
but spirits override pain. and in the end there beckons more and
For every one that the torture more clearly
took, total annihilation'
two were hid secure,
and so the craft, yes, it endured. This is the ending of the beginning,
this is the beginning of the end,
Love and hate lived on in the face And when the water falls again,
of fear, all is dead and nobody lives.
Hexenhammer's force died,
and the real power became clear.

White Hammer no more is beaten;
now it begins to beat,
and the Grey, once oppressor,
now, at good hands, faces defeat.
And the Black, too, shall bow down
to the power above;
Black hate beats Grey
but surpreme is
the White Hammer of Love.

All lyrics by Peter Hammill
All titles published by Stratsong Ltd /Carling Music Corp. (London)