Did anyone mention Marilion? No?
Marillion - He Knows You Know
Light switch, yellow fever, crawling up your bathroom wall
Singing psychedelic praises to the depths of a china bowl
You've got venom in your stomach, you've got poison in your head
You should have listened to the priest at the confession
When he offered you the sacred bread
He knows, you know, he knows, you know
H e knows, you know, but he's got problems
Fast feed, crystal fever, swarming through a fractured mind
Chilling needles freeze emotion, the blind shall lead the blind
You've got venom in you stomach, you've got poison in your head
When your conscience whispered, the vein lines stiffened
You were walking with the dead
He knows, you know, he knows, you know, he knows, you know
He's got experience, he's got experience, he knows, you know
But he's got problems, problems, problems
He knows... slash wrist, scarlet fever, crawled under your bathroom door
Pumping arteries ooze their problems through the gap that the razor tore
You've got venom in your stomach, you've got poison in your head
You should have listened to your analyst's questions
When you lay on his leather bed
He knows, you know, he knows, you know
He he knows, you know, but he's got problems
Blank eyes, purple fever, streaming through the frosted pane
You learned your lesson far to late from the links in a chemist chain
You've got venom in your stomach, you've got poison in your head
You should have stayed at home and talked with father
Listen to the lies he fed
He knows, you know, he knows, you know,
He knows, you know, but he's got problems
He knows, you know, he knows, you know, he knows, you know
He's got experience, he's got experience, he knows, you know
You know, you know, you know
Marillion - Forgotten Sons
Armalite, street lights, nightsights
Searching the roofs for a sniper, a viper, a fighter
Death in the shadows he'll maim you, he'll wound you, he'll kill you
For a long forgotten cause, on not so foreign shores
Boys baptised in wars
Morphine, chill scream, bad dream
Serving as numbers on dogtags, flakrags, sandbags
Your girl has married your best friend, loves end, poison pen
Your flesh will always creep, tossing turning sleep
The wounds that burn so deep
Your mother sits on the edge of the world
W when the cameras start to roll
Panoramic viewpoint resurrect the killing fold
Your father drains another beer, he's one of the few that cares
Crawling behind a Saracen's hull from the safety of his living room chair
Forgotten sons, forgotten sons, forgotten sons
And so as I patrol in the valley of the shadow of the tricolour
I must fear evil, for I am but mortal and mortals can only die
Asking questions, pleading answers from the nameless faceless watchers
That stalk the carpeted corridors of Whitehall
Who orders desecration, mutilation, verbal masturbation
I in the guarded bureaucratic wombs
Minister, minister care for your children, order them not into damnation
To eliminate those who would trespass against you
For whose is the kingdom, the power, the glory forever and ever, Amen
Halt who goes there, Death, approach friend
You're just another coffin on its way down the emerald aisle
When your children's stony glances mourn your death in a terrorist's smile
The bomber's arm placing fiery gifts on the supermarket shelves
Alley sings with shrapnel detonate a temporary hell
Forgotten Sons
From the dole queue to the regiment a profession in a flash
But remember Monday signings when from door to door you dash
On the news a nation mourns you unknown soldier, count the cost
For a second you'll be famous but labelled posthumous
Forgotten sons, forgotten sons
Peace on earth and mercy mild, Mother Brown has lost her child
Just another Forgotten Son
Marillion - Emerald Lies
To be the prince of possession in the gallery of contempt
Suffering your indiscreet discretions and you ask me to relent
As you accumulate flirtations with the calculated calmness of the whore
I am the harlequin - diamonded costume dripping shades of green
I am the harlequin - sense strangers violate my sanctuary
Prowl my dreams
Plundering your diaries, I'll steal your thoughts innocence
Ravaging your letters, unearth your plots innocence
To don the robes of Torquemada, resurrect the inquisition
In that tortured subtle manner inflict questions within questions
Looking in shades of green through shades of blue
I trust you trust in me to mistrust you
Through the Silk Cut haze to the smeared mascara
A 40 watt sun on a courtroom drama
And the coffee stains gather till the pale kimono
Set the wedding rings dancing on the cold linoleum
And accusations moths that circle on the light
Char their wings and spiral senseless suicidal flight
You packed your world within a suitcase, hot tears melt this icy palace
Dissolve a crystal swallowed by the night
Looking in shades of green through shades of blue
Looking in shades of green through shades of blue
Marillion - Fugazi
Vodka intimate, an affair with isolation in a Blackheath cell
Extinguishing the fires in a private hell
Provoking the heartache to renew the licence
Of a bleeding heart poet in a fragile capsule
Propping up the crust of the glitter conscience
Wrapped in the christening shawl of a hangover
Baptised in the tears from the real
Drowning in the liquid seize on the Piccadilly line, rat race
Scuttling through the damp electric labyrinth
Caress Ophelia's hand with breathstroke ambition
An albatross in the marrytime tradition
Sheathed within the Walkman wear the halo of distortion
Aural contraceptive aborting pregnant conversation
She turned the harpoon and it pierced my heart
She hung herself around my neck
From the Time-Life-Guardians in their conscience bubbles
Safe and dry in my sea of troubles
Nine to five with suitable ties
Cast adrift as their side-show, peepshow, stereo hero
Becalm bestill, bewitch, drowning in the real
The thief of Baghdad hides in Islington now
Praying deportation for his sacred cow
A legacy of romance from a twilight world
The dowry of a relative mystery girl
A Vietnamese flower, a Dockland union
A mistress of release from a magazine's thighs
Magdalenes contracts more than favours
The feeding hands of western promise hold her by the throat
A son of a swastika of '45 parading a peroxide standard
Graffiti conjure disciples testaments of hatred
Aerosol wands whisper where the searchlights trim the barbed wire hedges
This is Brixton chess
A knight for Embankment folds his newspaper castle
A creature of habit, begs the boatman's coin
He'll fade with old soldiers in the grease stained roll call
And linger with the heartburn of Good Friday's last supper
Son watches father scan obituary columns in search of absent school friends
While his generation digests high fibre ignorance
Cowering behind curtains and the taped up painted windows
Decriminalised genocide, provided door to door Belsens
Pandora's box of holocausts gracefully cruising satellite infested heavens
Waiting, the season of the button, the penultimate migration
Radioactive perfumes, for the fashionably, for the terminally insane, insane
Do you realise? Do you realise?
Do you realise, this world is totally fugazi
Where are the prophets, where are the visionaries, where are the poets
To breach the dawn of the sentimental mercenary
