| In the grip of a winter came love and greed
|
| Insane with faith, I took the driving front seat
|
| In the lowlight comfort of Berlin streets
|
| The calm from emptiness duetted with my body heat
|
| I was alone at the front line
|
| The message I was taught was a triumph
|
| And the joy of a lifetime
|
| I just can't think of England
|
| I can't see the picture
|
| I'm still running from the fire, the fire
|
| I just can't think of England
|
| I can't see the picture
|
| I'm still running from the fire, the fire
|
| In the twilight hours of nervous rest
|
| I bought the peace before believing the threats
|
| In a foreign field, I cut all regrets
|
| But poison stories just repeat themselves
|
| In a fucked up mess
|
| I was alone for the first time
|
| The message I was taught was a triumph
|
| And the joy of a lifetime
|
| I just can't think of England
|
| I can't see the picture
|
| I'm still running from the fire, the fire
|
| I just can't think of England
|
| I can't see the picture
|
| I'm still running from the fire, the fire
|
| I just can't think of England
|
| Can't see the picture
|
| I just can't think of England
|
| Can't see the picture
|
| I just can't think of England
|
| Can't see the picture |