The life of a writer is scribbled in shaky pen in a lonely corner of the world
Right up to the minute that it happens to you – standing inside and looking out
You think you have a good idea, then you cross it out and start again – one, two, three…
Where does that leave our hero? Standing at the top of an empty page
All the places I have been may not be on any map
And all the lessons of the past don’t mean a thing to anyone
Which side of the truth are you on when everyone is lying?
Sometimes I cannot write, nothing comes to mind
I only hope that it will pass and I can see my way through
to which side of the truth I am on in the end when everyone is lying
Some days you realize it just isn’t happening, but what can you do?
Walking up the hill in the daylight
Everyone want their money, but no one reads what I write
There’s no demand for this brand of confusion, why would I go on?
Don’t wanna go outside, don’t wanna talk to anyone
Don’t wanna look out the window, just wanna find the right words
It can’t be this much trouble just tryin’ to say something simple
Strange rooms seem to mix and collide - I still don’t wanna go outside
aaahhh….., ooooh……, one-two-three, one-two-three…
Nobody came to see the show - Nobody cares what tragedy has befallen your protagonist
There’s so much noise and clamor - Drowning out the nearly-silent whispering
Meaningless and indistinct - Meaningless and indistinct
Try to stop yourself from making any bad decisions, made so many bad decisions
You’re just trying to make a living - Something has obscured your labours
Pouring water on your papers, throwing silence on your voice – Big ideas make no sense to you
Stumble in the street and wander sadly by the windows as the sun is hammering the earth
All machinery and traffic and the manufactured plastic
They will all have meager choices and the starving crowd rejoices
Who you wanna be? Who you wanna be? Now who you wanna be? Who do you wanna be?
Now you head back home, happy enough to have a cup of tea alone
Wondering how anyone can survive, hiding in your imagination
It’s after hours, maybe I am still awake
I can imagine there was a time when men built towers of steel and vanity
I can imagine there was a time before they threw fire into the sky
Before they threw fire at the sky
I can imagine a time when I had no idea
Nobody made any money from misery
Nobody made a profit from trickery
Only the sound of rain, only the sound of rain
You don’t have to keep pretending, we know that you let everybody down
(let everybody down, down, down, down)
I hope you have your magic eraser, I hope that you can see around the corners
If everybody’s feeling is so important, nobody’s feelings really matter
So what’s the point of writing?
You have sixty seconds to state your case, so many fighting for that chance
But you get nothing, better go home now, cross out another day
But you get nothing, better go home now, cross out another day
You don’t have to keep pretending, we know that you don’t have any secrets to tell
Hope you have a round-trip ticket, you are going to find yourself walking along the tracks
Hey everybody, just gather together
You might be amazed at the twisting of the word
Better wake up the neighbors, and ring all their telephones
And tell them everything you heard
This a man who has nothing to lose, who will
risk being laughed at for revealing his dreams
He must find a venue where the world has to listen
Staged with a spotlight, one solitary being
Standing up to the sun like a madman
And now he talks to inanimate objects
And now he's winding up the clock too much
To tell the time and know how long
He can't stop trying to talk to you
The killer tries to run him down
He escapes to an empty building, a theater at the edge of town
He looks out at the audience, shadows and trash and empty seats
He can hear them whispering and waiting for the big performance
Every word that is spoken crashes down across the room
Now the props and the lights are changing, the final scene is coming soon
And at the end there will be such a fire that will burn up everyone inside the place
He steps up to the edge of the stage and strikes a match and you can see his face
You can see his eyes are full of smoke, you can see the strange designs
You can see his soul as it is carved away by time and tragedy
You can see the chaos in his mind
Ashes, ashes, all is spoken now
All is spoken now, the embers fly into the sky
Laughter, laughter, echoes in the night
Finally the clock has been set right, been set right
I have told my story to anyone who would listen
They have turned away from me time and again
But the sound of my voice has created a wave that will travel
through space where the stars all collide in pools of blue energy
When they finally die and draw everything into that
point of impossible, being so strange
I wonder if the rage and the sadness and the sound of my single voice
will be burned up like nothing in the greatness of heaven