Marillion - Fugazi



Tekst piosenki:


  
   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
  




Lyrics - Nieruchomości - Torebki