Each night I taste the silence
Of the words in my throat
Each day we hide in laughter
When they turn round and float
Do you lie back and think of England
As they shout in your face
Stand up and give them flowers
Mary full of grace
Temper's out of control again
There's an itch in my soul again
If I scratch it I will rest in peace
Each day I'm in the future
Of a net curtaned past
Each day I'm out of pocket
Time didn't last
Each night I wake up smoking
And my eyes start to sting
Wish I could keep them open
When the trees start to sing
Temper's out of control again
There's an itch in my soul again
If I scratch it I will rest in peace
Each night I taste the silence
Of the words in my throat
Each day we hide in laughter
When they turn round and float
Temper's out of control again
There's an itch in my soul again
If I scratch it I will rest in peace
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