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The Final Cut
Pink Floyd-old
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Through the fish-eyed lens of tear stained eyes
I can barely define the shape of this moment in time
And far from flying high in clear blue skies
I'm spiralling down to the hole in the ground where I hide
If you negotiate the minefield in the drive
And beat the dogs and cheat the cold electronic eyes
And if you make it past the shotguns in the hall
Dial the combination, open the priest hole
And if I'm in, I'll tell you
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There's a kid who had a big hallucination
Making love to girls in magazines
He wonders if you're sleeping with your new-found faith
Could anybody love him, or is it just a crazy dream?
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And if I show you my dark side
Will you still hold me tonight?
And if I open my heart to you, show you my weak side
What would you do?
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Would you sell your story to Rolling Stone?
Would you take the children away and leave me alone
And smile in reassurance, as you whisper down the phone?
Would you send me packing
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Or would you take me home?
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Thought I oughta bare my naked feelings
Thought I oughta tear the curtain down
I held the blade in trembling hands
Prepared to make it, but
Just then the phone rang
I never had the nerve to make the final cut
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