This Strange Engine
    (专辑: This Strange Engine - 1997)
    
    There was a 
boy who came into this world  At the 
hands of a 
holy woman in a 
holy place  He wore a 
red coat and walked a 
bulldog  Saw them reflected in the 
mirror of the 
lakes  Lived in the 
shadow of the 
mountains  With the 
smells of disinfectant, dusty old leather  And the 
polished wood of his bed  No more than a 
baby feeding swans on the 
river  Holding the 
hands of his mother  And the 
wax paper bag of yesterday's bread  And his father on the 
other side of the 
world  On the 
ships railings and some far away tide  With the 
silent dry tear of home thoughts from abroad  In his far away eyes  In his far away eyes   The 
smell of the 
wax on the 
wooden floor  Mixture of polish and soap  No children to fear or to play with  Rows of empty hooks for the 
coats  An upright piano and the 
boys in the 
choir  Still remind him of just before he was born  Remind him of just before he was breathing  Strange misty visions of God  Turn the 
cities into families  Into villages of souls  Hovering in the 
air while they're sleeping  With their houses invisible  Chase the 
moon between the 
buildings  Running as fast as I 
could run  Send to me the 
ghosts of Christmas  Whispering, "You're the 
only one"   And ever since I 
was a 
boy  I 
never felt that I 
belonged  Like everything they did to me  Was an experiment to see  How I 
would cope with the 
illusion  In which direction would I 
jump  Would I 
do it all the 
same  As the 
actors in the 
game  Or would I 
spit it back at them  And not get caught up in their rules  And live according to my own  And not be used, not be used  To find the 
fundamental truths  It was going to take some time  Thirty five summers down the 
line  The 
wisdom of each passing year  Seems to serve only to confuse  Seems to serve only to confuse   Daddy came out the 
navy and took us away  To his dirty grey home town  And he worked down on a 
coal mine for National Service  So that he could be around  There was a 
magical purple in the 
chrome of the 
exhaust  Of his Triumph motor bike  And a 
warmth of oil and metal and the 
thrill of the 
hard corner  Holding tight   From the 
horizon  Came home from the 
Navy to the 
mine  From the 
horizon  To buried alive  Took his dream underground  Buried his treasure in his faraway eyes   And one day as the 
boy lay sleeping in the 
sunshine  Of a 
half remembered afternoon  A 
cloud of bees with no particular aim, and no brain  Found the 
boy, decided that his time had come  Came down out of the 
sky  Stung him in the 
face  Again and again  Blue pain  Screaming like baptism  Intravenous, Jesus!  Like being chosen  Blue pain from something with no brain  I 
can't explain  It's happening again  It's happening again   Oh Mummy, Daddy, will you sit a 
while with me  Oh Mummy, Daddy, will you jog my memory  Tell me tall tales of Montego Bay  Table mountain, flying fish, banana spiders, pots of paint  And the 
sun on the 
equator  Setting like an ember thrown to deep water  From crimson to black  But coming back  Tomorrow  On the 
horizon   The 
blue pain  Fades to a 
point where it doesn't fade  It stayed  Blue  Stirred his red coat heart to this strange engine  This love   This love  This inconvenient, blind, blood-diamond  This puzzle  I 
don't understand  That knows no faith  And tries and fails  And tries again  Stares at the 
sea  The 
night's dark deep  For one last time  And bleeds  And bleeds  And dies for you  And lies  And is to blame  And is ashamed  And is not the 
same  And is true  And is true