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Standing here, on a thought, I see Every black cloud forming there – When I wake up I'll find everything was true… Moving on, nothing's gone, But then, there was nothing there before – When the sun goes down, Then everything returns… As time goes by, I turn my gaze up to the sky, And sigh – I don't know why… But all I see seems to scream out helplessly, Not free – The same as me… Sitting here, in the dark, I wait For the demons calling me – All that keeps me sane Is talking to myself… Saying I'm, feeling fine – As fine as a corpse is sleeping, and When I shut my eyes The shadows cool my mind… As time goes by, I turn my

Wait - step back and look, Look wait you're missing over here, oh yeah... While you were fighting, We were creating - we've come far, oh yeah... Soon we'll be flying, You'll still be crawling, Saying just how unlucky you are... But we can see, see the light, It shines so bright, and... People from your world, fluttered on down, Eyes covered with blindfolds, Asking them why, brought us the answer, They fear the future... They fear the future... Stop - start to zoom out, Out to the land you left behind, oh yeah... Turning away won't Get them away, they won't go, oh no... Soon we'll be sighing, As you are falling, Back to you

Smoke Signals Can you see the future? Will you dare to look inside? As the purple fires flicker, Burning all sight... It's for real this time… Take a guess where the bullet strikes next, Make a bet on how black the smoke will get, Or how far it will flow... Take a guess on the fortuneteller's ball, Make a bet on how far the tall will fall, Or how far they will go, To blow, the foe, away... Well, I thought I knew them, Lyrics, telling tales of war - Once I wrote about, all the people With their blindfolds... Now it's clear to all eyes, White lies, cover up no more... It's for real this time… It's for real this time… Take a

Shot glasses fire vodka down my throat, Kung fu kicking my kidneys, my heart: White strobe lights, fight, for the right To mess with my visions, splitting apart... Screaming starts to slur and flow, Spat by the girls in tartan mini skirts: Flirts, perverts, dance a touch too close, One more button off the young man's shirt... I enter the rugby scrum, the lion's den, The never-ending bar queue charges on: I'm squeezed in a vice, like a human scaffold, As my balance is totally gone... To my left, one football player grins aloud, Thinking and winking at the ladies looking on: To my right, another throws a shaky punch – His chances