Each night I taste the silence Of the words in my throat Each day we hide in laughter When they turn round and float Do you lie back and think of England As they shout in your face Stand up and give them flowers Mary full of grace Temper's out of control again There's an itch in my soul again If I scratch it I will rest in peace Each day I'm in the future Of a net curtaned past Each day I'm out of pocket Time didn't last Each night I wake up smoking And my eyes start to sting Wish I could keep them open When the trees start to sing Temper's out of control again There's an itch in my soul again If I scratch it I will rest in peace Each night I taste the silence Of the words in my throat Each day we hide in laughter When they turn round and float Temper's out of control again There's an itch in my soul again If I scratch it I will rest in peace
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