Текст пісні
Stop telling my secret story
We all know it properly, we all tell it differently
So when you make your little movie, don't be too careful
Don't tell my version – Tell your version, or disrupt everything
Stop telling my secret story
Of bodily debris, and signs you cannot see
Photographs of weapons retired
To certain shady bunker locations unknown by normals
Archive footage of civilian character actors
Urgent and morose, and poses in murals
Flashbacks of night-time incendiaries
Balaclavas and sunglasses at funerals
Meetings that don't make sense, that wouldn't happen outside the story
Chance transcendiaries of TV news and familial allegiances
On sporting pitches and regional showcasions
Community solidarity and libraries of fraternal ties
Values to unite and antagonise
A shared propaganda, fumbling in translation
From side to side, a shunting commissive, a bumpy ride
Derision and condemnation in a secretive narrative
But a flaccid third act, this ripening story
Failing to inspire even speculation
After the tabulation of statistics and the invoice has been returned
Only estimation of how the car-bomb decibel used to ring
What kind of a thing? And is it too late to tell?
Stop telling my secret story
Of bodily debris, and signs you cannot see
A title doesn't make a story you know
Compensation tossed after frustration
And monuments in gardens of earnest forgetting
No paranoia of lessons unlearned
No leap to objectivity – for that would bring
Shuddering whiplash
A mocking and crumpled rebound caused by sticky shoe-soles
The monuments are outside, and outside
Not our side and their side
On some new layer, hovering over optimism
For distant eyes, not inside lives
A pointing up of the storyline, that makes
Remembering feel like amnesia
And flashbacks quake to anaesthesia
I won't have my story used up for that