(diffordtilbrook)



Power station by the river

Grinding slowly to a stop

Clock still ticking on the mantle

Flames still flicker on the log

Coffee brewing in the kitchen

Where the door is open wide

Glass upon a hoovered carpet

Eyes are glowing in the night



It's the silence you can see

Hearing shadows behind me



All the buildings standing empty

All the trains are standing still

Cars are scattered by the roadside

There's no top upon the hill

Nails have scratched upon the outside

Of the empty chapel door

But i don't think that the father







Wants to live there anymore



There's no bone for you to pick

No more wax around the wick



Shot the arrow from the circle

At the apple on the tree

From a garden that was eden

Strange the fruit it bears for me

And the wind will spread the fire

And the rain will ever fall

If no one reads the writing

That's been written on the wall



Underneath the apple tree

There's a ghost who waits for me



The apple tree shakes its arms

Its fruit falls

Its fruits are tasting strange

The apple tree is shaking