Avalanche

3pm. Blue as a road sign,

With a gag and some cheap wine

Sun's in my eyes between

The smoke trails of aircraft,

The kite tails and light shafts

There's a language in the sky

There are bones

Hiding under the viaduct

Sweeping down by the railway line

Making wagers with the day

There's a rumour

Dirty as a chimneystack

Quiet as roadkill

On the northbound carriageway

And who's gonna raise a hand

When all we were taught to do is dance

Who'll be able to stand after this avalanche

Well, they sold you

Back your outrage

In a neat little shrink wrap

And a beautiful face and you think

You've found your purpose

Well, they've been trailing the breadcrumbs

Of a water-tight case

So you're shouting

You're shouting softly

So no one can hear you

And get the wrong idea

But behind

The closing eye of the tabloids

We will be waiting

And we'll say it clearly

Cos who's gonna raise a hand

When all we were taught to do is dance

Who'll be able to stand after this avalanche

3pm. Blue as a road sign,

With a gag and some cheap wine

Sun's in my eyes between

The smoke trails of aircraft,

The kite tails and light shafts

There's a language in the sky

There's a language in the sky

There's a language in the sky