(As the hungry moments of age creep into the shadows of the present, I feel the weight of Power and Patience. Words fail, but maybe this is better than nothing. Something should be happening, but it never does)
Silver dreams rest on my parade, but I can’t get enough.
There’s nothing left now I’m in the shade, where the weather is rough!
We once shared an atomic soul, do you agree?
It was in some deserted wasteland in 1963:
In silence and rage,
with the lies of backstage,
ships in the night,
now only the night remains.
Suffolk empires, a Mill Green door and a sleepy moth,
Wheat sheds and grain,
Ashwater dreams and hours made of cloth,
Sundown’s refrain.
I can hear your footsteps beating as you walked on down that road,
It was like all eternity fell upon you to explode,
In silence and rage,
with the lies of backstage,
ships in the night,
now only the night remains.
The latter rain falls on the windowpane, we’re in the house of cards,
There’s nothing ventured and I know there’s nothing gained,
Just the song of the starved,
Memories fall like that deck, nowhere left to run, the joker smiles and lays down his card, but at his head he holds the gun,
In silence and rage,
with the lies of backstage,
ships in the night,
now only the night remains.