Power station by the river Grinding slowly to a stop Clock still ticking on the mantle Flames still flicker on the log Coffee brewing in the kitchen Where the door is open wide Glass upon a hoovered carpet Eyes are glowing in the light It's the silence you can see Hearing shadows behind me All the buildings standing empty All the trains are standing still Cars are scattered by the roadside There's no top upon the hill Nails have scratched upon the outside Of the empty chapel door But I don't think that our Father Wants to live there anymore There's no bone for you to pick No more wax around the wick Shot the arrow from the circle At the apple on the tree From the garden that was Eden Strange the fruit it bears for me And the wind will spread the fire And the rain will ever fall If no one reads the writing That's been written on the wall Underneath the apple tree There's a ghost who waits for me The apple tree shakes its arms Its fruits falls Its fruits are tasting strange The apple tree is shaking.