Avalanche

3pm. Blue as a road sign, With a gag and some cheap wine Sun's in my eyes between The smoke trails of aircraft, The kite tails and light shafts There's a language in the sky There are bones Hiding under the viaduct Sweeping down by the railway line Making wagers with the day There's a rumour Dirty as a chimneystack Quiet as roadkill On the northbound carriageway And who's gonna raise a hand When all we were taught to do is dance Who'll be able to stand after this avalanche Well, they sold you Back your outrage In a neat little shrink wrap And a beautiful face and you think You've found your purpose Well, they've been trailing the breadcrumbs Of a water-tight case So you're shouting You're shouting softly So no one can hear you And get the wrong idea But behind The closing eye of the tabloids We will be waiting And we'll say it clearly Cos who's gonna raise a hand When all we were taught to do is dance Who'll be able to stand after this avalanche 3pm. Blue as a road sign, With a gag and some cheap wine Sun's in my eyes between The smoke trails of aircraft, The kite tails and light shafts There's a language in the sky There's a language in the sky There's a language in the sky