STOP the world I want to get off
with you, in a space
neither left nor right, east or west.
It's time to feel the reaction to all our action,
feel the recoil of our scattergun shot.
And feeling undeserving of sleep
we yearn the stronger to dream.
And in this dream space, and thanking God
we are here to help one another,
in this wood, blundering through the trees,
forced this way by united fronts of pure flame.
And now we long to wake up to our decent lives.
Well, open your eyes my good friend
here we are, blundering through the trees
a self-inflicted nightmare hot on our heels.
Our words are choked off but our feet are in step
for doesn't everyone know
just what to do when it's too late.
If we get to take up again our decent lives
we'll agree, thinking ourselves very lucky.
But where has half the forest we knew gone,
how long must flames taint our quaking sky?