آهنگ: Sykes. Scrapbook Of Your Youth. Colours.

The colours rise and rain above the shadow town awe struck with love.
You'll never see a war time dove. How could we say, how could we know we'd make these feelings grow.

The slow burning euphoria, the bright phantasmagoria, the morning black Victoria; all of them fools, why they see, she's ancient history.

And I could fly with the breeze in my hair, no I just couldn't care. High and dry; someone send up a flare 'cos we're losing our air. I used to think it was naive to think you could do anything if you believe.

Oh, it's so much easier than you know.
Oh, ignite the fuse; ten seconds to go.
Oh, send a distress call; she's gonna blow.
Same world: different colours.

And as the dawn on new friends falls, the others round them raise their walls, but still you'll hear them cry their calls: Freedom for all, A middle way, Let all men have their say.

The time has come to forget what has been and just wipe the slate clean: it's begun. You will know what I mean and you know it's obscene: though the maps may show you all the lines, they won't ever display to you their crimes.

Oh, it's so much easier than you know.
Oh, ignite the fuse; ten seconds to go.
Oh, send a distress call; she's gonna blow.
Same world: different colours

(Thanks to Tim for these lyrics)