Peter Hammill - Enter K 1982

  1. Paradox Drive
  2. The Unconscious Life
  3. Accidents
  4. The Great Experiment
  5. Don't Tell Me
  6. She Wraps It Up
  7. Happy Hour
  8. Seven Wonders (additional track)


    Paradox Drive

    The thought crossed my mind -
    how curious, why should I want so much shut-eye?
    Fighting the darkness and furious,
    oh, but I once more fall into the song...
    just the normal unconsciousness;
    could that be wrong?
    All out into action then all down into sleep -
    check that attraction, it must be more than skin deep.
    
    I've checked the twenty-four hours,
    I've done the stay-up-all-night;
    in a certain way that's power,
    but it's not wired up right.
    Up for the pleasure, then it's dead to the world;
    our lives surely measured by the unconscious third...
    
    Living on Paradox Drive,
    we must be living on Paradox Drive.
    
    The thought crossed my mind, how curious -
    why should I want so much shut-eye?
    Fighting the darkness and furious...
    oh, but I once more dropped off to the deep,
    the sweet comfort of a life on my own asleep.
    Up for the pleasure or dead to the world,
    a life surely measured by the unconscious third...
    
    Living on Paradox Drive,
    we must be living on Paradox Drive.
    
    I've checked the twenty-four hours,
    I've done the stay-up-all-night;
    in a certain way that's power,
    but it's not wired up right,
    it still isn't right.

    The Unconscious Life

    I'm in command,
    I'm in control,
    I am the captain of my soul.
    Still, I'm uncertain in one major role...
    oh, I drift through the unconscious life,
    shift through the unconscious life,
    lift up my unconscious eyes:
    beyond all normal pain and pleasure
    we should treasure the unconscious life.
    
    We've got our reasons for most things we do,
    we could surely rationalise them through.
    A false ring of confidence
    would characterise us true -
    oh, we're deep in the unconscious life
    asleep in the unconscious life,
    peeping through unconscious eyes.
    Beyond all normal pain and pleasure
    we should treasure,
    treasure the unconscious,
    treasure the unconscious life.
    
    Something makes me nervous,
    something makes me twitch,
    something makes me scratch that Pavlovian itch,
    (Wonder what that is now...?)
    Someone that I barely know must unpick the stitch
    to unravel the unconscious life,
    travel the unconscious life,
    gather the unconscious eye...
    far from shedding light on any motive
    the candle is votive when it burns at both ends.
    
    I'm not in command,
    I'm out of control,
    I am the Ship's Boy of my soul...
    
    Oh, we drift through the unconscious life,
    shift through the unconscious life,
    live through the unconscious life.

    Accidents

    This meeting is a coincidence
    which deserves a second look:
    we've seen the chapter of accidents
    become the longest in the book.
    I see your face in the picture for better or worse,
    all power to the accident!
    Oh, the sweetest is the one I'm holding in my arms
    and the fleetest is the one who survives
    but the meetest is the one who's running on the spot
    where the accident's about to arrive.
    I know my place on the planet chapter and verse,
    all part of the accident.
    
    I know my place in the story, a line of blank verse,
    a part of the accident.
    
    No system worth its salt
    lays all its cards upon the table;
    no discipline of thought
    will render me more able
    to buck those random throws.
    
    This meeting is a coincidence
    which deserves a second look -
    we've seen the chapter of accidents,
    it's the longest in the book.
    I see your face in the picture for better or worse,
    all power to the accident!
    Oh, the sweetest is the one I'm holding in my arms
    and the fleetest is the one who survives
    but the meetest is the one who's running on the spot
    where the accident's about to arrive...
    (The accidental, the accident!)
    
    Your face in the picture for better or worse,
    all power to the accident!
    I know my place on the planet chapter and verse,
    all part of the accident.
    I know my place in the story, a line of blank verse,
    a part of the accident.
    I see your face in the picture for better or worse,
    all power to the accident,
    all power to the accident!

    The Great Experiment

    "Is that all there is to it," he asks,
    "no more conjecture or controversy?
    Don't think I could go through it,
    I couldn't live with the memory.
    Now is the hour, it comes eventually;
    how great the power as it falls on me!"
    
    He's raising his sense of occasion to the limit -
    (The big moment is coming up.)
    Practised, his sense of evasion... or is it?
    (No sidestep or dummy run.)
    Craving a certain indulgence - would you give it?
    Would you give it in time?
    
    Treading water, making waves
    from the cradle to the grave;
    home by a whisker - close shaves!
    I'm waiting,
    what I said I meant:
    no faking
    The Great Experiment.
    
    Near the end of the reel now,
    he's hanging on by his fingertips.
    He knows how it feels;
    at last the kiss of unearthly lips.
    Now is the hour to get a tighter grip.
    How great the power as the tide begins to rip!
    
    I'm waiting -
    no faking
    The Great Experiment.

    Don't Tell Me

    You don't have to say a thing,
    the silence is sweet;
    we've been together today
    in a way we might never repeat.
    Oh, your head on the pillow,
    the distance in your eyes -
    already you might be
    rehearsing the word ''Goodbye".
    
    When the evening comes of this perfect day,
    when the shadows run will you look away,
    will you slip away?
    Don't tell me anything.
    
    You don't have to say a word,
    all too well I understand:
    there's a nervous tension
    in the touch of your gentle hand.
    That makes me afraid -
    I've seen you like this before...
    the moment you find somebody new
    you find yourself bored.
    Oh, I don't want to lose you.
    
    When the evening comes of this perfect day,
    when the shadows run will you look away,
    will you slip away?
    Don't tell me anything.
    
    Now the evening's come,
    now I'm left alone;
    now the passion's done
    and you're going home...
    oh, when will you telephone?
    You don't tell me anything.
    No, you don't even tell me
    the bell won't ring.

    She Wraps It Up

    You know that she's got something she wants to give;
    hard to tell if it's of spirit or the life she lives...
    maybe somewhere between the two.
    Oh, the waiting to see what it is!
    
    The energy donor, looking over her shoulder,
    she sees it all, she sees it slipping away.
    There's a backbone shiver for the energy giver...
    she wraps it up, and that's a final wrap for today.
    
    Some things she'll soon learn to live without,
    while others she's not secure enough to doubt.
    It'll be hard to stay so close
    when all that special emptiness floods out.
    
    The energy donor shoots it straight from the shoulder:
    she sees it all, she sees it all rushing through.
    There's a backbone shiver from the energy giver...
    she wraps it up, she wraps it up and gives it to you.
    
    Jumping shells, the electrons will dance
    like dusk-time fireflies.
    Just as well that you took that last chance
    to extend all your by-and-bys.
    Let's be clear:
    don't be too far away...
    oh, but don't get so near!
    You'll remember today for the rest of your life.
    
    The energy donor, looking over her shoulder,
    she sees it all, she sees it slipping away.
    There's a backbone shiver for the energy giver;
    she wraps it up, and that's a heavy rap you'll have to pay.
    The energy donor shoots it straight from the shoulder:
    she sees it all, she sees it all rushing through.
    There's a backbone shiver from the energy giver -
    she wraps it up, she wraps it up and gives it to you.

    Happy Hour

    Fuelled by alcohol,
    shooting out the words like a rocket,
    like a prophet out of Babylon
    method acting the absurd...
    Shoot me those highballs
    till I'm lit up like I'm plugged in a socket;
    lock me eyeball to eyeball,
    let's not bother with the words.
    Oh, bring on the clowns, bring on the night,
    pour me double vision in black and white.
    I'm falling, falling - don't give me that look!
    I'm falling, falling, it's the oldest trick in the book,
    My chickadee, my passion flower,
    show me the way to the Happy Hour.
    
    I don't like to see that:
    oh, no, I don't like the way the hand is shaking,
    shape-making like an acrobat
    on his way to the trapeze.
    My friends in the crowd
    are all taking bets -
    they're taking away the safety net.
    Falling, falling - don't give me that look!
    I'm falling, only falling, it's the oldest trick in the book,
    Vertigo on the high-wire tower -
    is this really what they mean by 'Happy Hour`?
    
    The line between the social and the suicidal
    so fine he might not know when he's crossed it,
    when he's lost it;
    when the social kick becomes the gauging-stick of survival.
    
    So here's to the circus,
    let's drink to the game of forgetting
    the marionette strings that jerk us,
    the real world just outside the door.
    I know that my legs have gone
    and I know that the light here is far from perfect...
    I've rehearsed it, so I'll carry on
    until I wind up on the floor.
    My friends in the bar
    will stand me a round,
    they'll toast me on my way to the Underground.
    I'm falling, falling - don't give me that look!
    I'm falling, only falling, it's the oldest trick in the book,
    My chickadee, my passion flower,
    show me the way to the Happy Hour.
    Vertigo on the high-wire tower -
    is this really what they mean by 'Happy Hour`?
    
    Put on the greasepaint, we're getting ready for Happy Hour.
    Do you hear me now? Can you feel me now?
    I'm in the middle of Happy Hour...
    Put on the greasepaint.

    Seven Wonders

    Well, it must have been here somewhere,
    that which the culture highly prized:
    the list of ancient buildings,
    the attitude of mind,
    the wisdom of the prophets,
    the calalogue of books...
    You can't get off it,
    you don't knows where to look...
    you knows you don't knows what to say
    and it's strange now, see how
    everything's changed,
    including the Seven Wonders.
    Nothing is permanent here.
    
    New kick, new game, new theory,
    the rest reduced to nought:
    it only takes a moment
    one clear and lucid thought.
    Once the process has been triggered
    all previous process disappears...
    I don't know what it is you fear,
    I don't know what it is you fear:
    the shift is nothing to be afraid of.
    Strange now, see how
    everything's changed,
    including the Seven Wonders.
    Nothing is permanent here,
    that's part of the spell we're under.
    Getting old then, say when
    you're happy to hold
    your personal Seven Wonders.
    Nothing is permanent here.
    
    
    K/Peter Hammill Vox, keyboards, guitar Brain/Guy Evans Drums, percussion Mozart/Nik Potter Bass Fury/John Ellis Lead guitar with Jaxon/David Jackson Sax on tracks 2 and 5 A K Production All songs by Peter Hammill Recorded in 1982 at Sofa Sound and Crescent Studios, Bath Mixed at Crescent Studios Engineering by David Lord and PH Remastered 1991 at Terra Incognita Photography by Jo Swan Recorded by Ridout/K


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