Knee deep and born into it,
You didn't ask for this and don't I know it?
A father's son,
We couldn't hope for less.
Pry these workds from my cold dead lips,
Home is where the heart is.
And the ghosts I draw
Will leave you cold.
A bankrupt father
To skin and bones.
I'm moving over;
I'm making room for you.
I'm making room.
I will occupy the space between
What you say and what you mean.
And you say
That the devil's in the detail.
And if that's true
When he is through with me he will
Sure as hell be after you.
And the ghosts I draw
Will leave you cold.
A bankrupt father
To skin and bones.
We escape, we escape, we escape
With our minds made up.
We escape, we escape, we escape
And our time is up.
A group that I know only too well, I’ve been with them for nearly 30 years; from their Glaswegian basement origins to their current status as Arena band. My enthusiasm for their later output may have tempered somewhat as the mighty ‘Gwai evolved their sound to avoid pigeonholing, but there is nothing better than when they lay waste to a venue via the sheer euphoria of ‘Helicon 1’. They’re still devastating live and, after all those years, THE authority in Instrumental Rock music. Logen Ninefingers
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