作曲 : Sinfield

I feel like a rusty key I don't fit any door

You stole my cloudy castles but you didn't say what for

You said I didn't have the eyes to paint out in the street

Without a standard martyr's hat and neon sloganned feet

To eat, it seems, I needed you, for crumbs your need was me

We cheered and passed the sanguine flask till the iceman made me see

At five o'clock you could never wash your printer's stain away

So I count you lost and your words I've tossed

In the bleary(weary) envelopes of yesterday...

I feel like a tumbling kite there's no hand on my reel

I dived aboard your star-bright ship to find you'd left the wheel

To hunt some upstart passengers who had gambled with their fare

Then trumpeted the hull with holes and laughing gone by air

Whilst most of us who stayed aboard slipped brandy to the crew

John Purser locked his iron box and pointed at the queue

Still working out the price of time no echoes will we lay

So I've burnt the till and I've thrown the bills

In the weary(weary) envelopes of yesterday...

I need to suck the breasts of time and freeze her milk in ink

To juggle cruets full of dreams and balance on the brink

Don't blame me if my smoke and steam obscured your rutted track

I only meant to startle you not offer you my back

To ride upon and overload with your jars of unbaked clay

You can find your guide to the pulpit ride

In the dreary(weary) envelopes of yesterday...

I'm upside down, I'm an empty town, my eyes are full of ghost

Of dusty windowed certainty and spider-webbed almost

I love, I hate this rock and roll, the ladies and the lights

Ate all my flowers long ago but the roots came through all right

Whilst now my toast is the crossroads post, I hear just out of sight

That the Black Pick's found his Chaldean lamp

After years in a concentration camp

But I fear he's still out on the ice

With his bagpipe mouth and his cup of crimson speiss

Still, I've fulfilled a host of dreams for that I'll cry hurray

But it won't be long till I cast this song

In the jet-edged envelopes...

(In the ash-filled envelopes...)