Lyrics Mr. X (Gets Tense) - Peter Hammill
The
current
affair
gets
to
be
my
business,
I
heard
the
news
on
the
radio:
The
sun
on
earth...
what
is
this?
Is
that
the
way
that
the
crazy
goes?
Attention
tuned
to
the
satellites,
Looking
down
for
an
overview.
In
the
chapel
of
space
we
are
acolytes.
In
the
battle
of
time
we're
all
soldiers
too
And
the
relative
choir
push
the
energy
higher
Under
fire.
The
sliding
show
in
the
macroscopic,
Finger
on
the
button
pointing
to
progress.
The
apparatus
roll,
no-one
here
can
stop
it,
Too
busy
learning
more
– always
knowing
less.
Soon
turkey-wrapped
in
the
spaceman
blanket
We'll
offer
up
lame
duck
apologies
And
settle
down
for
the
final
banquet,
The
gourmet
dish
of
technology...
Cryogenic
device
catches
all
human
life
Under
ice.
The
current
affair
gets
to
be
all
our
businness,
It's
filtered
in
through
the
T.V.
screen.
The
norm,
the
average...
what
is
this?
When
it
goes
blank
what
does
that
all
mean?
And
what's
the
drive
of
each
individual?
And
what's
the
way
that
the
story
ends?
Is
it
Mr
X,
left
as
the
last
residual
Holder
of
the
flame,
conscience
of
all
men?
But
he's
so
tense
to
expire
He
throws
himself
on
the
wire
Under
fire.
Is
this
the
way
the
world
ends?
Under
ice,
Under
fire?
Has
there
been
some
mistaken
design?
Under
ice.
Got
to
find
the
human
voice.
Lord,
deliver
us
from
Babel.
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