Faces at a window, fingers clutching at the bars. A fly skips from an
|
eyebrow to an elbow, across a scar. And stars are laughing as the
|
wind bites - doesn't leave a mark... because the Tower stands
|
impregnable - a beacon in the dark.
|
And no-one names a crime committed, no-one blames a soul. Their cases
|
heard so long ago - forget about parole. And faculties are failing
|
because they're really rather old. And sick. And tired, much too
|
jaded. How they weep, cos how they hate it.
|
Sky dye on her fingers. The air was turning blue, as captain
|
whispered, 'Blindfold's optional - you wouldn't like the view! She
|
shook her head and shouted back, "I'd like to see this through." Then
|
joined the line of hostages - was 13th in the queue.
|
Rusty chains and armoured pillows stuffed with silver pins.
|
Collecting lives like butterflies, keep them all locked in. Tattoo
|
with a star, write a number on the chin... It's not for turning.
|
Slowly learning. Stomach churns, the fire's burning... No-one has the
|
key to the Tower.
|
And if you listen carefully, you'll hear a baby cry. Torn screaming
|
from her mother's womb - the lady nearly died. But the torment never
|
stops, it's written right across the eyes of George and Jeannie,
|
Charlotte, Renie, Uncle Geoff, Cousin Julie, Audrey, Johnny, Andy,
|
Mandy, Algernon. And Barbarella, Shelly, Napoleon. Winston, April,
|
Philip, Roland, Barry, Sally, Patrick, Me! Me! Mimi...
|
|
-----------------
|
Tower One
|
The Legendary Pink Dots |