tiny flame inside my hand [bad word] I never planned
Unravel out the finer strands
And I'm looking at a blank page now
Should I fill it with words somehow?
I whispered something in her ear
I bare my soul, but she don't hear
The scratching of a mellotron, it always seemed to make her cry
Well maybe she remembers us collecting space up in the sky
Nothing rises from my feet of clay, but it's OK
Red mist spreads across my fingertips, ardour slips
I lay her gently on my clothes
She will leave me, yes I know...
And I'm looking at a blank page now
Should I fill it with words somehow?
The scratching of a mellotron, it always seemed to make her cry
Well maybe she remembers us collecting space up in the sky
Nothing rises from my feet of clay, but it's OK
Red mist spreads across my fingertips, ardour slips
Don't look at me with your mothers eyes or your killer smile
sing a lullaby