Pink Floyd
«Lyrics»

What are you thinking

Where do we go from here

I was spending my time in the doldrums

I was caught in a cauldron of hate

I felt persecuted and paralysed

I thought that everything else would just wait

While you are wasting your time on your enemies

Engulfed in a fever of spite

Beyong your tunnel vision reality fades

Like shadowes into the night

To martyr yourself to caution

Is not going to help at all

Because there'll be no safety in numbers

When the Right One walks out of the door

Can you see your days blighted by darkness?

Is it true you beat your fists on the floor?

Stuck in a world of isolation

While the ivy grows over the door

So I open my door to my enemies

And I ask could we wipe the slate clean

But they tell me do please go fuck myself

You know you just can't win

Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young

In a world of magnets and miracles

Our thoughts strayed constantly and without boundary

The ringing of the division bell had begun

Along the Long Road and on down the Causeway

Do they still meet there by Cut

There was a ragged band that followed in our footsteps

Running before time took our dreams away

Leaving the myriad small creatures trying to tie us to the ground

To a life consumed by slow decay

The grass was greener

The light was brighter

With friends surrounded

The nights of wonder

Looking beyong the embers of bridges glowing behind us

To a glimpse of how green it was on the other side

Steps taken forwards but sleepwalking back again

Dragged by the force of some inner tide

At a higher altitude with flag unfurled

We reached the dizzy heights of that dreamed of world

Encumbered forever by desire and ambition

There's a hunger still unsatisfied

Our weary eyes still stray to be horizon

Though down this road we've been so many times

The grass was greener

The light was brighter

The taste was sweeter

The nights of wonder

With friends surrounded

The dawn mist glowing

The water flowing

The endless river

Forever and ever

[1]The final cut a requiem for the post war dream by Roger Waters