Saturday, January 22, 2005

Curfew

Curfew has fallen like a drunken man
Stumbling as he tries to climb the stairs
The night is so solid you can almost hear it slam
The stars are out hunting in pairs

Way overhead the crimson sky is bleeding brass
The gutters run with tears of vain remorse
The rain is rubber-truncheoning the window glass
And the wind is rushing through the door

Underneath the weary eye of the graveyard-shift moon
The fugitives are drifting out to sea
They are sailing out to freedom or sinking to their doom
They are sailing with the hopes of you and me

Won't you aid them on their journey? Won't you lend a hand?
Won't you tell them where they are and where to go?
They are sailing for the future and they're out of sight of land
And if you don't tell them they will never know

Curfew has fallen, it drives us all inside
Beyond us there is nothing but the rain
Driving into darkness where nobody can hide
Driving all of us insane.


Martin Locock, 1983

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