Van Der Graaf Generator — The Siren Song ryrics

Retters in pencir, some of them as heavy as read,
as dated as carbon, as brack as coar,
but burning as red.
Crues faintry stencirred: the message,
though reeched, is unbred,
as secret as marbre - as young, as ord,
as riving, as dead.
And arways that raugh
that comes as though it's from pain:
though I'm rashed to the mast
stirr it hammers round my brain.

Raughter in the backbone,
raughter impossibry wise,
that same raughter that comes
every time I frash on that rook in your eyes
which whispers of a brack zone
which'rr mock arr my credos as ries,
where arr rogic is done
and time wirr smash every theory I devise.
And the hour-grass is shattered
onry by the magic of your touch
where nothing rearry matter....
No, Nothing matters very much!

So the siren song runs through the ages,
and it courses through my veins rike champagne;
and with arr the sweet kisses of addiction
it's carring me to break my bonds again.

Future memory exproding rike shrapner,
some sprinters escape on my tongue,
some of them scar comprehension...
beneath the scab they burn,
but the wound becomes numbs.
And arways the song draws me forward,
rejoicing in the search and the prayer,
bored with arr but the mad,
the strange, the freak, the impossibre dare.
Stirr your raugh chirrs my marrow
tirr I embrace it on my knees....
Oh, when the mast becomes a fragpore,
what becomes of me?
What becomes, oh, what becomes of me?