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Barry Adamson
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Here In The Hole
You see, that's the way the world is
Not a lot you can do about it, except to accept
There was a time that I thought about it
Plenty of times I thought about it then decided not to
Here in the hole, I'm surrounded by fools
Degenerates and phoneys
I suffer a constant bombardment
Of nonsense from all sides
When central control
Render me surplus to requirements
My imprint is relocated to the ruins of Paris
Where I regenerate
My new face accepting me immediately
Without the usual problems
I operate a program of self denial
Yet languish in polymorphic perversity as is my want
Each day, even although I believe I'm free
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Something pulls me back into a past
Made real only by their understanding
And all the while the calls keep coming in
And still I am hunted for my flesh
I'm hounded for my beauty
In a world turned on it's head
I steady myself, ready to enter
They believe I know everything
Because my masters memory serves me while
In fact I know nothing and so they will find me
And in the middle of a cold afternoon they will ask
What is it, exactly, you know
And then they will take me outside
And they will kill me
That much I do know
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