Tekster: Barry Adamson. Here In The Hole.

You see, that's the way the world is
Not a lot you can do about it
Except to accept

There was a time that I thought about it
Plenty of times I thought about it
Then decided not to

Here in the hole
I'm surrounded by fools
Degenerates and phoneys
I suffer a constant bombardment of nonsense from all sides

When central control render me surplus to requirements
My imprint is relocated to the ruins of Paris
Where I regenerate

My new face accepting me immediately without the usual problems
I operate a program of self denial
Yet languish in polymorphic perversity as is my want

Each day, even although I believe I'm free
Something pulls me back into a past made real only by their understanding
And all the while the calls keep coming in

And still I am hunted for my flesh
I'm hounded for my beauty
In a world turned on it's head
I steady myself
Ready to enter

They believe I know everything because my masters memory serves me while
Infact I know nothing
And so they will find me
And in the middle of a cold afternoon they will ask
What is it, exactly, you know
And then
They will take me outside
And they will kill me

That much I do know