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Incubus

作者:
marillion
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歌词
上传时间:
2016-12-29

  Incubus

  When footlights dim in reverence to prescient passion

  Forwarned my audience leaves the stage, floating ahead

  Perfumed shift within the stammering silence, the face

  That launched a thousand frames betrayed by a porcelain tear, a stained career, career

  You played this scene before, you played this scene before

  I the mote in your eye, eye, eye, eye

  I the mote in your eye

  A misplaced reaction, reaction

  The darkroom unleashes imagination in pornographic images

  In which you will always be the star, always be the star

  Untouchable, unapproachable, constant in the darkness, in the darkness, in the darkness

  Nursing an erection, a misplaced reaction, with no flower to place before this gravestone

  And the walls become enticingly newspaper thin

  But that would be developing the negative view

  And you have to be exposed in voyeuristic colour

  The public act, let you model your shame on the mannequin catwalk, catwalk

  Let the cats walk, and the cat walks

  I've played this scene before

  I've played this scene before

  I the mote in your eye, eye, eye, eye

  I the mote in your eye

  A misplaced reaction, satisfaction

  A irritating speck of dust that came from absolutely nowhere

  You can't brush me under the carpet, you can't hide me under the stairs

  The custodian of your private fears, your leading actor of yesteryear

  Who as you crawled out of the alleys of obscurity

  Sentenced to rejection in the morass of anonymity

  You who I directed with lovers will

  You who I let hypnotise the lens

  You who I let bathe in the spotlights glare

  You who wiped me from your memory like a greasepaint mask

  Just like a greasepaint mask

  But now I'm the snake in the grass, the ghost of filmreels past

  I'm the producer of your nightmare and the performance has just begun

  It's just begun, it's just begun

  Your perimeter of courtiers jerk like celluloid puppets

  As you stutter paralysed with rabbits eyes, searing the shadows

  Flooding the wings, to pluck elusive salvation from the understudy's lips

  Retrieve the soliloque, maintain the obituary

  My cue line in the last act and you wait in silent solitude

  Waiting for the prompt, waiting for the prompt

  You've played this scene before

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