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Peter Hammill
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German Overalls
Mannheim:rainy Saturday with no money nor friend...* Only Tequila can end the boredom. Try to reach London for a pocket of hope; We're children, we grope in the dark. Hugh spends his last Mark on coffee and cheese... I feel just like a refugee... Rathaus-keepers and traffic police, Middle-aged maids with rotting teeth, Industrial magazines and old Sunday Times: Reading material/bleeding lines. What are we doing here?
Memorial menace, eager for revenge, Has begun to bend our minds. Shower-curtain imperative in the presence of acid; Now, feeling placid is death. I try to hold my breath as the P.A. comes down... Here we all are in Ktown! The Big Wheel never fails to grind around... It drags me up/it drugs me down. Seven senses wonder 'Can this be real, Or am I become a performing seal?' Why are we dying here?
I walk the streets alone, try to find a sign of love. Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com I've crushed the plaster-bone in the freaky clubs. I have bit the fruit But all I live for is to play And I'm tired of the nights and the days Of airports, taxis and motorway showers, Groping for a key in the afterhours. David takes to travelling in the van, He knows that we all can understand: We're at the mercy of the Kosmos tour, Making a pilgrimage to the German Lourdes... But we're still crippled here.
Cathedrals spiral skywards; I think I'm getting vertigo. I think I don't know what is real. One more sudden spotlight; one more madness is over; I must not show a sign of fear. Words echo round my ears, I think I'm going to laugh... Think I'll just go and take a bath, guess I'll wash my clothes, Don't you know I'll grow to go and make my name, Maybe be a servant in the Famegame; Stake my sane and rest my life on the line... Now lay me asunder and rend my mind; At the fall of the curtain let this be my ghost.
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