I can't have silence on other hillsides,
You won't have meaning coming off the west side hills.
Up on top now and I'm unbelieving how a
Hard time feeling could be on the west hills.
Up on the railway everyone is leaving,
And I'm on the bridge now and I think I'm leaving too.
Fell on the west side, cut off all meaning,
Now I can't remember and I don't have reason to.
And the front of my hand is in a sweat now
'Cause I'm under fire, coming up like hot flushes.
Picking up the feeling that it's all unstable,
And I'm on the ledge now looking down Unstable Hill.
This energy is stirring the leaves, nearing to land, fire in hand.
Sun the field, turning the wheel, water and oil nearing the boil.
I can't have my time or innovation.
I don't have feeling carrying a thoughtless will.
And the palm of my hand is in a sweat now
'Cause I'm under fire, coming up like hot flushes.
Picking up the feeling that it's all unstable,
And I'm on the ledge now looking down Unstable Hill.
Up on the railway everyone is leaving,
And I'm on the bridge now and I think I'm leaving too.
This energy is stirring the leaves, searing the land, fire in hand.
Sun the field, turning the wheel, water and oil nearing the boil.
This energy is stirring the trees, nearing to land, fire in hand.
Sun the field, turning the wheel, water and oil nearing the boil.