1. |
||||
it seems that paradise
has been well locked and barred
to all the issues of Adam
it seems that children must
pay for their parents crimes
until they wish they never had them
the clouds are fabric balls
the earth machinery
to gather power from the stars
each of us has a gateway
through which infinity calls
to touch each victim through their scars
we are walking through
a kingdom that is found
out here somewhere East of Eden
East of Eden
East of Eden
East of Eden
East of Eden
|
||||
2. |
This City (Peter Jones)
03:17
|
|||
the abstracted shapes
of the people's thoughts
different shops and pubs
all the cheap facades
it is all this city
it is all this city
wind shaken trees
half crumbling parks
the enquiring eyes
fingers parting lace
it is all this city
it is all this city
long straggling queues
of the out of work
a baby sucking sweets
dribbling down his quilt
it is all this city
it is all this city
all this city
|
||||
3. |
||||
everything you say to me appears to be an ancient quote
taken from a printed problem column, words gone up in smoke
all the time remembering a meaningless and worn routine
a movement into emptiness just slowly running out of steam
the honeymoon is over
didn't your magazine just tell you?
an album full of pictures really is no place to go and live
replacing all the present time with nothing left that's new to give
why does what is past enslave us, why should we let it go on?
I cannot carry on pretending something's right when it is wrong
the honeymoon is over
didn't your magazine just tell you?
didn't your magazine just tell you?
whatever it is that we are saying we must always prove you're right
if I can't agree with you, you argue on into the night
always down to words it falls, where is the room we need to breathe?
if it's not enough to be together, one of us must leave
the honeymoon is over
didn't your magazine just tell you?
the honeymoon is over
didn't you read it in your magazine?
didn't you read it in your magazine?
|
||||
4. |
||||
welcome, welcome
first today to see the creepshow
come see the exhibits
but do not touch
they cannot bear touch here in the creepshow
please, do not hang back
it's hard enough to show people around the creepshow
first, here on the rack strapped
a child's virgin mind
we see the careful white-coats
affix their machine's veins
to the pulsing neck side
checking dials they monitor reaction
she must love her daddy's banker
she must love her daddy's banker
for her part in the creepshow
Amanda, so sad
Amanda, but let's brush over sadness
give her the pills and diagnose madness
Cyril Has-Or-Might-Have-Been
must fill his lust
they let him bayonet robots
as his morning constitutional
to state his rage
unless he feels his age
we can't have that!
sometimes he'll watch a war film
on the moron machine in the corner of his cell
lost in time, lost in Mind
Cyril writhes like smoke
his bigot's eyes are slashed skin
their expression none the nicer
for being blank
Amanda, still sad
Amanda, still mad
any more for any more!
now it's up to you
use your free will, you decide
yes you, you, you decide
whether or not you will return
for if you come again
you'd better bring your ball and chain
unguided embittered attraction
of the creepshow
|
||||
5. |
||||
Instrumental
|
||||
6. |
Puppets (Rob Reed)
03:15
|
|||
motive hidden - eye made of wood
nothing is evil - nothing is good
always precision - each thing in place
shapeless and splintered - awkward no grace
puppets marching, strictly in time
movement predestined, tugs on the line
pride in their engines - thought on the wane
caring unheard of - against the grain
puppets marching, hear the wind whine
gusting and howling, tugs on the line
puppets marching, told to feel fine
scared to be thrown back, tugs on the line
puppets marching, faulty design
strain overloading, fractures the line
puppets marching
puppets marching
puppets marching
puppets die
|
||||
7. |
||||
raise one leg
dream of death
obliterate your sex
holding breath
this is a memory
this is a trance
it is the middle
of a broken last chance
it isn't movement
it isn't free
it is a moment
deep in you and me
dance... dance... dance...
dance... dance... dance
dancing in a midday, apparently frozen stance
caught up in a nihilistic dance, dance, dance
a single eye
stares from a face
with all the emptiness
of limitless space
without action
without motion
entombed in the oil
of one man's emotion
never casual
more than a glance
where the truth for a change
has been paid in advance
dance... dance... dance...
dance... dance... dance
dancing in a midday, apparently frozen stance
caught up in a nihilistic dance, dance, dance
dance... dance... dance...
dance... dance... dance
dancing in a midday, apparently frozen stance
caught up in a nihilistic dance, dance, dance
and the window being open
shows the sky far away
but the balustrade keeps us locked in
to make us dance all day
|
||||
8. |
||||
you know how it is when you're out walking
split seconds behind reality
catch impressions of the people talking
and you think "it's all about me"
missing things of interest 'cos you're not feeling
try not to see the friends who wave
and they just think all your thoughts must be reeling
so they leave you well alone
well I'm not going to go along with it this time
because I know that it makes no sense at all
we just end up with fruitless discussions
soul searching with no point at all
always bothered by the repercussions
tense waiting for a fall
still the words remain the same sad meanings
of what is yours and what is mine
they just get tired and we start off dreaming
'til we're running out of time
well I'm not going to go along with it this time
because I know that it makes no sense at all
|
||||
9. |
||||
Instrumental
|
||||
10. |
Puppets (Steven Wilson)
02:48
|
|||
motive hidden - eye made of wood
nothing is evil - nothing is good
always precision - each thing in place
shapeless and splintered - awkward no grace
puppets marching, strictly in time
movement predestined, tugs on the line
pride in their engines - thought on the wane
caring unheard of - against the grain
puppets marching, hear the wind whine
gusting and howling, tugs on the line
puppets marching, told to feel fine
scared to be thrown back, tugs on the line
puppets marching, faulty design
strain overloading, fractures the line
puppets marching
puppets marching
puppets marching
puppets die
|
||||
11. |
||||
everything you say to me appears to be an ancient quote
taken from a printed problem column, words gone up in smoke
all the time remembering a meaningless and worn routine
a movement into emptiness just slowly running out of steam
the honeymoon is over
didn't your magazine just tell you?
an album full of pictures really is no place to go and live
replacing all the present time with nothing left that's new to give
why does what is past enslave us, why should we let it go on?
I cannot carry on pretending something's right when it is wrong
the honeymoon is over
didn't your magazine just tell you?
didn't your magazine just tell you?
whatever it is that we are saying we must always prove you're right
if I can't agree with you, you argue on into the night
always down to words it falls, where is the room we need to breathe?
if it's not enough to be together, one of us must leave
the honeymoon is over
didn't your magazine just tell you?
the honeymoon is over
didn't you read it in your magazine?
didn't you read it in your magazine?
|
||||
12. |
Creepshow (Paul Hodson)
10:25
|
|||
welcome, welcome
first today to see the creepshow
come see the exhibits
but do not touch
they cannot bear touch here in the creepshow
please, do not hang back
it's hard enough to show people around the creepshow
first, here on the rack strapped
a child's virgin mind
we see the careful white-coats
affix their machine's veins
to the pulsing neck side
checking dials they monitor reaction
she must love her daddy's banker
she must love her daddy's banker
for her part in the creepshow
Amanda, so sad
Amanda, but let's brush over sadness
give her the pills and diagnose madness
Cyril Has-Or-Might-Have-Been
must fill his lust
they let him bayonet robots
as his morning constitutional
to state his rage
unless he feels his age
we can't have that!
sometimes he'll watch a war film
on the moron machine in the corner of his cell
lost in time, lost in Mind
Cyril writhes like smoke
his bigot's eyes are slashed skin
their expression none the nicer
for being blank
Amanda, still sad
Amanda, still mad
any more for any more!
now it's up to you
use your free will, you decide
yes you, you, you decide
whether or not you will return
for if you come again
you'd better bring your ball and chain
unguided embittered attraction
of the creepshow
|
||||
13. |
||||
motive hidden - eye made of wood
nothing is evil - nothing is good
always precision - each thing in place
shapeless and splintered - awkward no grace
puppets marching, strictly in time
movement predestined, tugs on the line
pride in their engines - thought on the wane
caring unheard of - against the grain
puppets marching, hear the wind whine
gusting and howling, tugs on the line
puppets marching, told to feel fine
scared to be thrown back, tugs on the line
puppets marching, faulty design
strain overloading, fractures the line
puppets marching
puppets marching
puppets marching
puppets die
|
||||
14. |
||||
raise one leg
dream of death
obliterate your sex
holding breath
this is a memory
this is a trance
it is the middle
of a broken last chance
it isn't movement
it isn't free
it is a moment
deep in you and me
dance... dance... dance...
dance... dance... dance
dancing in a midday, apparently frozen stance
caught up in a nihilistic dance, dance, dance
a single eye
stares from a face
with all the emptiness
of limitless space
without action
without motion
entombed in the oil
of one man's emotion
never casual
more than a glance
where the truth for a change
has been paid in advance
dance... dance... dance...
dance... dance... dance
dancing in a midday, apparently frozen stance
caught up in a nihilistic dance, dance, dance
dance... dance... dance...
dance... dance... dance
dancing in a midday, apparently frozen stance
caught up in a nihilistic dance, dance, dance
and the window being open
shows the sky far away
but the balustrade keeps us locked in
to make us dance all day
|
||||
15. |
||||
you know how it is when you're out walking
split seconds behind reality
catch impressions of the people talking
and you think "it's all about me"
missing things of interest 'cos you're not feeling
try not to see the friends who wave
and they just think all your thoughts must be reeling
so they leave you well alone
well I'm not going to go along with it this time
because I know that it makes no sense at all
we just end up with fruitless discussions
soul searching with no point at all
always bothered by the repercussions
tense waiting for a fall
still the words remain the same sad meanings
of what is yours and what is mine
they just get tired and we start off dreaming
'til we're running out of time
well I'm not going to go along with it this time
because I know that it makes no sense at all
|
||||
16. |
||||
it seems that paradise
has been well locked and barred
to all the issues of Adam
it seems that children must
pay for their parents crimes
until they wish they never had them
the clouds are fabric balls
the earth machinery
to gather power from the stars
each of us has a gateway
through which infinity calls
to touch each victim through their scars
we are walking through
a kingdom that is found
out here somewhere East of Eden
East of Eden
East of Eden
East of Eden
East of Eden
|
||||
17. |
||||
Instrumental
|
||||
18. |
||||
Instrumental
|
||||
19. |
||||
Instrumental
|
||||
20. |
||||
motive hidden - eye made of wood
nothing is evil - nothing is good
always precision - each thing in place
shapeless and splintered - awkward no grace
puppets marching, strictly in time
movement predestined, tugs on the line
pride in their engines - thought on the wane
caring unheard of - against the grain
puppets marching, hear the wind whine
gusting and howling, tugs on the line
puppets marching, told to feel fine
scared to be thrown back, tugs on the line
puppets marching, faulty design
strain overloading, fractures the line
puppets marching
puppets marching
puppets marching
puppets die
|
||||
21. |
||||
welcome, welcome
first today to see the creepshow
come see the exhibits
but do not touch
they cannot bear touch here in the creepshow
please, do not hang back
it's hard enough to show people around the creepshow
first, here on the rack strapped
a child's virgin mind
we see the careful white-coats
affix their machine's veins
to the pulsing neck side
checking dials they monitor reaction
she must love her daddy's banker
she must love her daddy's banker
for her part in the creepshow
Amanda, so sad
Amanda, but let's brush over sadness
give her the pills and diagnose madness
Cyril Has-Or-Might-Have-Been
must fill his lust
they let him bayonet robots
as his morning constitutional
to state his rage
unless he feels his age
we can't have that!
sometimes he'll watch a war film
on the moron machine in the corner of his cell
lost in time, lost in Mind
Cyril writhes like smoke
his bigot's eyes are slashed skin
their expression none the nicer
for being blank
Amanda, still sad
Amanda, still mad
any more for any more!
now it's up to you
use your free will, you decide
yes you, you, you decide
whether or not you will return
for if you come again
you'd better bring your ball and chain
unguided embittered attraction
of the creepshow
|
||||
22. |
||||
you know how it is when you're out walking
split seconds behind reality
catch impressions of the people talking
and you think "it's all about me"
missing things of interest 'cos you're not feeling
try not to see the friends who wave
and they just think all your thoughts must be reeling
so they leave you well alone
well I'm not going to go along with it this time
because I know that it makes no sense at all
we just end up with fruitless discussions
soul searching with no point at all
always bothered by the repercussions
tense waiting for a fall
still the words remain the same sad meanings
of what is yours and what is mine
they just get tired and we start off dreaming
'til we're running out of time
well I'm not going to go along with it this time
because I know that it makes no sense at all
|
Twelfth Night UK
Twelfth Night are an English progressive rock band of the 1980s, reformed between 2007 and 2012 and again in 2014.
Streaming and Download help
If you like Twelfth Night, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp