The Ultimate Disaster
Won't You Keep Us Working?
God of the nitefall, God of the shade,
God of the deep it's you whose made
All of the evening, all of the night,
All of the motion without light.
God of the darkness, God of the soul,
God of the deep dark friendly hole;
God of the unseen, cloudy and dim;
God of the hiding hear this hymn:
Won't you keep us working -- working, working, working;
Won't you keep us working -- working down below.
First Warning
Instrumental
Back To Normality?
Harmony cannot be denied; Once again we are satisfied;
Calm and quiet have been restored; So it is as it was before.
Isn't it?
Isn't it?
Isn't it?
The Sky Falls
Instrumental
Why Are We Crying?
Shrinking from the touch of darkness, moaning in the night;
Sobbing into meloncholy, weeping into fright;
Graciousness is not forgotten and into its place,
Whispering insinuation finds a fond embrace.
The Tunnels Are Filling
Instrumental
It Never Stops
There is no home where we reside, if there is nothing down deep inside,
Except a serpent sitting beside a promise of nothing except suicide.
I have been told, deep in my dreams, that there is hope, and that itseems
All that we seek was seen by the sea; yes,
Safety and comfort do dwell by the sea.
Won't You Keep Us Working?
God of the nitefall, God of the shade,
God of the deep it's you whose made
All of the evening, all of the night,
All of the motion without light.
God of the darkness, God of the soul,
God of the deep dark friendly hole;
God of the unseen, cloudy and dim;
God of the hiding hear this hymn:
Won't you keep us working -- working, working, working;
Won't you keep us working -- working down below.
First Warning
Instrumental
Back To Normality?
Harmony cannot be denied; Once again we are satisfied;
Calm and quiet have been restored; So it is as it was before.
Isn't it?
Isn't it?
Isn't it?
The Sky Falls
Instrumental
Why Are We Crying?
Shrinking from the touch of darkness, moaning in the night;
Sobbing into meloncholy, weeping into fright;
Graciousness is not forgotten and into its place,
Whispering insinuation finds a fond embrace.
The Tunnels Are Filling
Instrumental
It Never Stops
There is no home where we reside, if there is nothing down deep inside,
Except a serpent sitting beside a promise of nothing except suicide.
I have been told, deep in my dreams, that there is hope, and that itseems
All that we seek was seen by the sea; yes,
Safety and comfort do dwell by the sea.