We’d go to sleep at night
Into a bed of light
Free from unrest
You held your shoulders high
Let out an ancient cry free from your chest
I remember paradise
Up where the angels fly
Life at the crest
And we will be there again
Somewhere towards the end
No regrets
The curtains, covers, sheets and veils
Do their best to hide the trial
But when you turn to find the road?
You can’t go home. You can’t go home
Remember, it was paradise
You took your own advice
That was it
You lived inside in your telephone
A place you could be alone
And champ at the bit
Now you are fully grown
You make your feelings known
Boy, do they stick
And now you’re just some device
People will look at twice
And soon forget
You clocked a master on the bus
(The object of some ancient lust)
He showed you many ancient text
And ancient ways to catch your breath
You long for a stronger life
Something that’s more precise
Something ideal
You mourn for a world that was
A child in you lives because
It’s something you feel
Unbearable though it seems
This is the shape of dreams
Bent to a wheel
And, now they are mobilised
Cut down and phantasise
Something real
Paradise
That was it
Telephone
Champ at the bit
Fully grown
Boy, do they stick
And now you’re just some device
People will look at twice
And soon forget
The curtains, covers, sheets and veils
Do their best to hide the trial
But when you turn to find the road
You can’t go home. You can’t go home
