(Difford/Tilbrook) 



Power station by the river   

Grinding slowly to a stop   

Clock still ticking on the mantle   

Flames still flicker on the log   

Coffee brewing in the kitchen   

Where the door is open wide   

Glass upon a hoovered carpet   

Eyes are glowing in the night   



It's the silence you can see   

Hearing shadows behind me   



All the buildings standing empty   

All the trains are standing still   

Cars are scattered by the roadside   

There's no top upon the hill   

Nails have scratched upon the outside   

Of the empty chapel door   

But I don't think that the father   

Wants to live there anymore   



There's no bone for you to pick   

No more wax around the wick   



Shot the arrow from the circle   

At the apple on the tree   

From a garden that was Eden   

Strange the fruit it bears for me   

And the wind will spread the fire   

And the rain will ever fall   

If no one reads the writing   

That's been written on the wall   



Underneath the apple tree   

There's a ghost who waits for me   



The apple tree shakes its arms   

Its fruit falls   

Its fruits are tasting strange   

The apple tree is shaking