This Strange Engine Lyrics - A Sunday Night Above The Rain - Marillion

There was a boy who came into this world 

At the hands of a holy woman in a holy place 

He wore a red coat and walked a bulldog 

Saw them reflected in the mirror of the lakes 

Lived in the shadow of the mountains 

With the smells of disinfectant, dusty old leather 

And the polished wood of his bed 

No more than a baby feeding swans on the river 

Holding the hands of his mother 

And the wax paper bag of yesterday's bread 

And his father on the other side of the world 

On the ships railings and some far away tide 

With the silent dry tear of home thoughts from abroad 

In his far away eyes 

In his far away eyes 

The smell of the wax on the wooden floor 

Mixture of polish and soap 

No children to fear or to play with 

Rows of empty hooks for the coats 

An upright piano and the boys in the choir 

Still remind him of just before he was born 

Remind him of just before he was breathing 

Strange misty visions of God 

Turn the cities into families 

Into villages of souls 

Hovering in the air while they're sleeping 

With their houses invisible 

Chase the moon between the buildings 

Running as fast as I could run 

Send to me the ghosts of Christmas 

Whispering, "You're the only one" 

And ever since I was a boy 

I never felt that I belonged 

Like everything they did to me 

Was an experiment to see 

How I would cope with the illusion 

In which direction would I jump 

Would I do it all the same 

As the actors in the game 

Or would I spit it back at them 

And not get caught up in their rules 

And live according to my own 

And not be used, not be used 

To find the fundamental truths 

It was going to take some time 

Thirty five summers down the line 

The wisdom of each passing year 

Seems to serve only to confuse 

Seems to serve only to confuse 

Daddy came out the navy and took us away 

To his dirty grey home town 

And he worked down on a coal mine for National Service 

So that he could be around 

There was a magical purple in the chrome of the exhaust 

Of his Triumph motor bike 

And a warmth of oil and metal and the thrill of the hard corner 

Holding tight 

From the horizon 

Came home from the Navy to the mine 

From the horizon 

To buried alive 

Took his dream underground 

Buried his treasure in his faraway eyes 

And one day as the boy lay sleeping in the sunshine 

Of a half remembered afternoon 

A cloud of bees with no particular aim, and no brain 

Found the boy, decided that his time had come 

Came down out of the sky 

Stung him in the face 

Again and again 

Blue pain 

Screaming like baptism 

Intravenous, Jesus! 

Like being chosen 

Blue pain from something with no brain 

I can't explain 

It's happening again 

It's happening again 

Oh Mummy, Daddy, will you sit a while with me 

Oh Mummy, Daddy, will you jog my memory 

Tell me tall tales of Montego Bay 

Table mountain, flying fish, banana spiders, pots of paint 

And the sun on the equator 

Setting like an ember thrown to deep water 

From crimson to black 

But coming back 

Tomorrow 

On the horizon 

The blue pain 

Fades to a point where it doesn't fade 

It stayed 

Blue 

Stirred his red coat heart to this strange engine 

This love 

This love 

This inconvenient, blind, blood-diamond 

This puzzle 

I don't understand 

That knows no faith 

And tries and fails 

And tries again 

Stares at the sea 

The night's dark deep 

For one last time 

And bleeds 

And bleeds 

And dies for you 

And lies 

And is to blame 

And is ashamed 

And is not the same 

And is true 

And is true