Steven Wilson

You sure, you're right?
Well no, you're wrong
You don't feel my energy
But it won't be long
I see the sun
Believe the dark
Soon I'll disappear
But I'll make my mark
All these fears
And all this love
All you've given me
Is not enough
All my dreams
And all this stuff
All made real
And it's not enough
Watching, waiting, shaping, faking
Shocking, pumping, mocking, stopping
Falling, stalling, warning, crawling
Rejecting, perfecting, loving, ending
Behind my eyes
Is rage alone
But you don't understand
It was all home-grown
I'm not afraid
I just don't belong
It may be cynical
But it all seems wrong
All these fears
And all this love
All you've given me
Is not enough
All my dreams
And all this stuff
All made real
And it's not enough
Watching, waiting, shaping, faking
Shocking, pumping, mocking, stopping
Falling, stalling, warning, crawling
Rejecting, perfecting, loving, ending
Behind my eyes
Is rage alone
But you don't understand
It was all home-grown
I'm not afraid
I just don't belong
It may be cynical
But it all seems wrong
All these fears
And all this love
All you've given me
Is not enough
All my dreams
And all this stuff
All made real
And it's not enough
Watching, waiting, shaping, faking
Shocking, pumping, mocking, stopping
Falling, stalling, warning, crawling
Rejecting, perfecting, loving, ending

A body is washed up on a Norfolk beach
He was a friend that I could not reach
He thought I was cold but I understand
But for the grace of god goes another man

And I may just waste away from doing nothing
But I'm a martyr to even less

A choirboy is buried on the moors
Where we used to go dreaming when we were bored
So some kids are best left to fend for themselves
And others were born to stack shelves

And I may just waste away from doing nothing
But I'm a martyr to even less

I remember piano lessons
The hours in freezing rooms
Cruel ears and tiny hands
Destroying timeless tunes

She said there's too much out there
Too much already said
You'd better give up hoping
You're better off in bed

You don't need much to speak of
No class, no wit, no soul
Forget you own agenda
Get ready to be sold

I feel now like Christine Keeler
Sleepwaking in the rain
I didn't mean to lose direction
I didn't want that kind of fame

(Take your hands off my land)

Credit me with some intelligence
(if not just credit me)
I come in value packs of ten
(in five varieties)

And even though I got it all now
My only stupid dream
I see you and me together
And how it should have been

I remember piano lessons
Now everything seems clear
You waiting under streetlights
For dreams to disappear