Putting on a show

 It could be good,

It could be bad

It could be the best you've had

Oh putting on a show

And the lights were dazzling

Oh and the nights rizzle-razzling

Wait here's the Great pretender

Oh I could've been a contender

If I only crossed the line

Putting on a show

And the people are crowding

In the balconies and stalls

And the audience is rowdy

And you can hear the cat calls

You want what nobody asks for

You ask what nobody hears

What do you to wear so many masks for?

How do you conquer so many fears?

Putting on a show

Oh come and see the great pretender

He's performing himself

At hall near you

 He tried to be you

And that really fell through

So he climbed back into his old role instead

Putting on a show

Dangers of holidays

 There are dangers in this

There are dangers in that

There dangers to run, maybe a cat

There are reasons to be and there are reasons not to be

But we see there are dangers

Dangers in Life

Come on and break the wave

Of this falling, can'tyou be brave

Enslave, the craving, the craving

And delays to sunny days

Come and make the right waves

There are dangers to this

And yet there are dangers to that

The great house between me

CHRIST ABOVE and fills me with love

And we're walking through the rainbow

Of all this testimony

Make it leave or make it stay

There is nothing better

On a holiday with you

Make it leave or make it go

I will be there when the final whistle blows

I will be there at the end of the game

At the end of the line

Find me in the crowd

Of substitution shouting loud

A day score line at the end of the day

Finally they say there is only one way up

And one way down

On a holiday with you

Can't even say

Take me for what I am

Oh take me for what I'm not

Take me in a traffic jam

Take me off, take me in

Panda blues

 You know I even thought

I could have pandered to you

I could've pandered, could've pandered to you

But you beat me black and blue

With the birch stick screw

I was black and white

Like a hole out in space

I lost my signal like a TV

Like a celebrity disgraced

Yet I could've pandered to you

I could've pandered, could've pandered

To you

Gods

 In the North, In the North

The Gods stood firm

Legs as fast as stone

Look on my works ye mighty and dispair

They seem to say

Just desert sands that blow remain

 

And People walking in their multiudes

Come to pay their respects

The dog cries

Of thunder shimmer

Across the blue oasis

And all of time seems

To glimmer there

In an instance

Of standing

Waves

Two possible futures

Split

In one he walks again

In another crubles to dust

This is the fate of every dictator God

That ever stood

In winter running

 In Winter running through the past

What lives are these, these lives that last?

And turn fresh leaves into the grass

What lives are these, these lives that last?

In summer, blossom crowns the crows

And all black death goes rolling home

When bones are dug and bonanzas known

What lives are these that rest in stone?

In winter running through the spring

Time's tap runs fast, what joy life brings

But in these days of autumn glass

I see darkly, dimly how all things pass

In winter running through the trees

Brave squirrels defending terroritries

And crouching ducks waddle down the lawn

As I walk out soon just past dawn

In winter running summer's sand glass

Hours, minutes, seconds pass

But I count no grains

For no grain lasts

Except the truth, yet no shadows it casts

In these winter paths

 In these winter paths

Where I wind from summer's laughs

The kiss of the wind versus the scarfs

All along these winter paths

In these winter paths I see my life 

In chandelier staffs

And coloured calfs on rolling hills of green

The ocean like a memory of a film scene

But real to real I had a head telegraph

Who told me sned the branches

Of the pines like giraffes

They bow their heads

Then nod as if at me to laugh

In these winter paths

In these winter paths

Britain

 You who hide behind your job's place

The security of position

 What are you waiting for?

Your own souls are dying

You have surrounded yourselves

In the fat and grease

To protect you from the from the Viking hoards

Who come pillaging at your door

You may pay them off

With all your riches

Protect yourselves

From war

Or real risk

You who

Fatly waddle

Down your streets of pleasant peace