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<\/a>Those heady school days of the early 80s<\/p><\/div>\n
Cynical Eyes<\/h3>\n
[Lyricist’s note: “ochre rain” – what was I thinking?]<\/em><\/p>\n Darkness falls so fast it’s like an ochre rain, You’re stumbling through the darkness, The nightmare takes control and rules your troubled mind, Water everywhere, nor any drop to drink, \u00a9 1983 Rob Bates.<\/p>\n [Lyricist’s note: I’d just like to say that despite the tone of these words, I had a great time in my teenage years, and never suffered from the traditional teenage angst of depression, paranoia and suicidal tendencies. I guess I just found that I couldn’t write about girls, motorbikes or drinking so there wasn’t much left in the Heavy Metal cliche catalogue to choose from.]<\/em><\/p>\n The rain is falling, making puddles in my mind, I turn away and leave them far behind, Someone shouts at me, the dream is shattered, Look into the mirror, what do I see? I fly away, on silver wings, \u00a9 1983 Rob Bates.<\/p>\n [Lyricist’s note: Loosely inspired by Michael Moorcock’s novel “The War Hound and the World’s Pain” – fortunately I don’t think he’ll ever read this.]<\/em><\/p>\n Riding away from the carnage and death,<\/p>\n
\nTurn away from chaos, head homeward once again.
\nThe silver in your pocket buys the comfort that you keep.
\nFree of pain and fear, lie down your head and sleep.<\/p>\n
\nOverwhelmed by black despair,
\nAnd you’re running fast,
\nBut from nowhere to nowhere.
\nBefore you are the faces,
\nOf the ones you have despised,
\nGrinning back at you with those,
\nCynical eyes.<\/p>\n
\nYour guilty conscience take revenge for truths maligned.
\nThe people you usurped to gain your wealth and power,
\nCome back to haunt you and turn all your dreams sour.<\/p>\n
\nGold is no use in a nightmare peril,
\nCan’t you see that all your wealth is worth nothing,
\nFor if the gain’s dishonest then it belongs to the devil.<\/p>\nListen to the Silence<\/h3>\n
\nI turn my eyes from the flooding that I find,
\nI see reflections on the faces in the crowd,
\nI turn myself away because they all seem too loud.
\nI search within me for a place to call my own,
\nSomewhere for meditation, somewhere to be alone.
\nPeople all around me keep asking me my name,
\nThey tell me I’m a fool and then they tell me I’m to blame.<\/p>\n
\nI need somewhere to hide, somewhere they’ll never find.
\nLife is full of misery and nothing’s what it seems,
\nI feel so helpless all I can do is dream.
\nI fly away, on silver wings,
\nTo a place where no one mocks me, to a place where I can sing.
\nThere are no crowds with their taunts and violence,
\nI close my eyes and listen to the silence.<\/p>\n
\nThe crystal shards around me are scattered.
\nI’m brought back to this world of pain,
\nTo face the people’s laughter once again.
\nThey say they like me, they say they need me,
\nThey say they want me but they’re lying through their teeth.
\nThey’re all against me, they all detest me,
\nThey want to kill me and lay the final wreath.
\nWon’t someone help me get out of this place,
\nI feel I don’t belong to this human race.
\nBeneath their shining masks they’re laughing with derision,
\nThey make my decision,
\nEnd my life.<\/p>\n
\nMocking with its emptiness a face of misery.
\nA flash of steel from my hand brings sunlight to my eyes,
\nBut sunlight brings the people here, the people I despise.
\nI look unto my naked arm, the veins are clear and tense,
\nIn all my muddled thoughts this alone makes some sense.
\nI hold the blade above my wrist, stiffen, bow my head,
\nDrag the knife through skin and vein, the room just turns to red.<\/p>\n
\nTo a place where no one mocks me, to a place where I can sing,
\nThere are no crowds with their taunts and violence,
\nI close my eyes and listen to the silence.<\/p>\nWar Hound<\/h3>\n