Mask lyrics

Dancing on hot tiles
Dancing on tender hooks
Dancing down church aisles
Dancing on holy books
Dancing on crocodiles
Dancing on hallowed ground
Dancing Nyjinsky style
Dancing with the lost and found

Dancing on rock 'n roll's grave
Dancing on burning coals
Dancing on Jesus Saves
Dancing with old scratch soul
Dancing on flick knives
Dancing a stiletto groove

Well hello pretty woman
You're looking good
With a yellow dot skirt
And you're swaying hah

You look as though you've ate your one last meal
You're conceit is all thats left
You can sing a spiel
You used to hide away in kiosk land
Let's find you out and loosen up
You're so upset

Making coffee for the poor machines
Stipulate, copulate for all his schemes

I have you
You have me

Hazy four o'clock shadows
Commence the seance
Nine lives on the spirits

'Til the desert suns prevail
In every scream eternal

Locks out boredom forever
Paints your fishes black

It's so exciting
Separate hearts
Midnight

Midnight close

Almost crying
Underneath the vine
Fly like the jet
The tan and white
Evening

I hear whistling
In my ear wax
Seven shapes
Black

1. David Jay

She blamed him for stoking up controversy
In a dreamworld
It's a long way down from Heaven's gate
In the absence of a jury
The case continues
White lies
Seal his bitter fate
The case continues

2. Peter Murphy

Take a fish
And a potato
Hold the fish
And the potato
In your hand
In your hand

Put the potato
In the fish
Make it digest it
Smash it up
Smash it up

The man who was mortally wounded in war
Kept on fighting
The man who was cut to the quick by love
Kept on loving
The man who was merciless tortured by thoughts
Kept on thinking
The man who was crippled with concern
Kept on caring

Hair of the dog
Hair of the dog
Hair of the dog that turned
Hair of the dog

The man whose eyes were sore from obscenities
Kept on looking

The man of shadows thinks in clay
Dreamed trapped thoughts of suffocation day
He's seen in iron environments
With plastic sweat out of chiselled slits for eyes

From the growth underneath the closed mouth
You'll catch if you listen
Rack-trapped cubist vowels
From a dummy head expression
From a dummy head expression

The transformation is invested

And he spoke of pastures green
I was never told why
Each journey lasts an age
And my throat feels dry
It must be the lesson
Hidden deep inside
It must be the lesson
So roll the tide

So I began the crossing
My throat burned dry
Searching for Satori
The kick in the eye
I am the end of reproduction
Given no direction
Every care is taken
In my rejection

Kick in the eye (x4)

In the marbled reception hall I received a three band gold ring, from Mark. A token of esteem. Running through ghost closet locker rooms, to hide from Peter, who has fallen to the old cold stone floor, wheezing and emitting a seemingly endless flow of ectoplasmic white goo from ears and mouth.

You fear the lesson
And fear to walk
And fear to pass on
Your fear to talk

The teacher was feared
Your parents too
Then you became
The fear of you

Fear

Look to yourself
Climb over the wall
And see behind
That you're not so small

Then you won't blame fear
When competing's too much
As you fall on your back
As you fail to touch

Fear

And I say to you
When your fear is strong

And he spoke of pastures green
I was never told why
Each journey lasts an age
And my throat feels dry
It must be the lesson
Hidden deep inside
It must be the lesson
So roll the tide

So I began the crossing
My throat burned dry
Searching for Satori
The kick in the eye
I am the end of reproduction
Given no direction
Every care is taken
In my rejection

Kick in the eye (x4)

Shoes that no man would want to wear
Wipe away the night's last cold stare
Red fist curled 'round the house
Was away boy Shelly's shoes
wash

Chocolate power is so crisp
The atomic open house is really here
And we have gone so desperate
Your power knows no bounds
And heavier with time
Are our shoes
That no man would want to wear
New tread wipes a wet road so dry
it stings

She had nut painted arms
That were hers to keep
And in her fear
She sought cracked pleasures
The passion of lovers is for death said she
Licked her lips
And turned to feather

And as I watched from underneath
I came aware of all that she keep
The little foxes so safe and sound
They were not dead
They'd gone to ground

The passion of lovers is for death said she

ancient earthwork, fort and barrow
discreetly hide their secret abodes
the most fearful hide deep inside
and venture not there opon yuletide

for invasion of their hollow hills
that music hold, and oberon fill
is surely recommended not
for fear of death, in fear of rot

hollow hills
hollow hills
hollow hills
hollow hills

baleful sunds and wild voices ignored
ill luck, disaster, the one reward

Shoes that no man would want to wear
Wipe away the night's last cold stare
Red fist curled 'round the house
Was away boy Shelly's shoes
wash

Chocolate power is so crisp
The atomic open house is really here
And we have gone so desperate
Your power knows no bounds
And heavier with time
Are our shoes
That no man would want to wear
New tread wipes a wet road so dry
it stings

Gonna be like a dog
Lay flat on my back
Pull my feet off the ground
Let my head hit the sack

I'm muscle in plastic
Nyjinski's bad move
Just a white show piece
I've got nothing to lose

I preach for the praise
Can't laugh so I gaze
Like a bad offset
I'm just counting the days

I'm a muscle in plastic
Nyjinski's bad move
Just a white show piece
I've got nothin, nothing to lose

Gonna be like a dog
Lay flat on my back
Pull my feet off the ground
Let my head hit the sack

I'm muscle in plastic
Nyjinski's bad move
Just a white show piece
I've got nothing to lose

I preach for the praise
Can't laugh so I gaze
Like a bad offset
I'm just counting the days

I'm a muscle in plastic
Nyjinski's bad move
Just a white show piece
I've got nothin, nothing to lose

You fear the lesson
And fear to walk
And fear to pass on
Your fear to talk

The teacher was feared
Your parents too
Then you became
The fear of you

Fear

Look to yourself
Climb over the wall
And see behind
That you're not so small

Then you won't blame fear
When competing's too much
As you fall on your back
As you fail to touch

Fear

And I say to you
When your fear is strong

The man of shadows thinks in clay
Dreamed trapped thoughts of suffocation day
He's seen in iron environments
With plastic sweat out of chiselled slits for eyes

From the growth underneath the closed mouth
You'll catch if you listen
Rack-trapped cubist vowels
From a dummy head expression
From a dummy head expression

The transformation is invested
With the mysterious and the shameful

The man who was mortally wounded in war
Kept on fighting
The man who was cut to the quick by love
Kept on loving
The man who was merciless tortured by thoughts
Kept on thinking
The man who was crippled with concern
Kept on caring

Hair of the dog
Hair of the dog
Hair of the dog that turned
Hair of the dog

The man whose eyes were sore from obscenities
Kept on looking

In the marbled reception hall I received a three band gold ring, from Mark. A token of esteem. Running through ghost closet locker rooms, to hide from Peter, who has fallen to the old cold stone floor, wheezing and emitting a seemingly endless flow of ectoplasmic white goo from ears and mouth.

ancient earthwork, fort and barrow
discreetly hide their secret abodes
the most fearful hide deep inside
and venture not there opon yuletide

for invasion of their hollow hills
that music hold, and oberon fill
is surely recommended not
for fear of death, in fear of rot

hollow hills
hollow hills
hollow hills
hollow hills

baleful sunds and wild voices ignored
ill luck, disaster, the one reward

She had nut painted arms
That were hers to keep
And in her fear
She sought cracked pleasures
The passion of lovers is for death said she
Licked her lips
And turned to feather

And as I watched from underneath
I came aware of all that she keep
The little foxes so safe and sound
They were not dead
They'd gone to ground

The passion of lovers is for death said she

Dancing on hot tiles
Dancing on tender hooks
Dancing down church aisles
Dancing on holy books
Dancing on crocodiles
Dancing on hallowed ground
Dancing Nyjinsky style
Dancing with the lost and found

Dancing on rock 'n roll's grave
Dancing on burning coals
Dancing on Jesus Saves
Dancing with old scratch soul
Dancing on flick knives
Dancing a stiletto groove

And he spoke of pastures green
I was never told why
Each journey lasts an age
And my throat feels dry
It must be the lesson
Hidden deep inside
It must be the lesson
So roll the tide

So I began the crossing
My throat burned dry
Searching for Satori
The kick in the eye
I am the end of reproduction
Given no direction
Every care is taken
In my rejection

Kick in the eye (x4)