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There’s not a thing on TV I haven’t seen, still I sit here facing the screen.
The programmes make me die inside; seems all the people with talent have died.
My reaction to all I see and hear is just to yawn. 'Seems like a thousand years ago that I was born.
It’s a young world, yes, it’s a young world. Things have changed, everybody’s moved on.
Oh, and it’s a young world, it’s a young world. But I’m just the same, so I don’t belong.
I’m who I am with nothing to prove, but I don’t have the energy to move.
Free as the wind in the sky, but I don’t have the will to fly.
The only thing that I feel are my years shooting by. Time and the fates bring only lows and no more highs.
Well, it’s a young world, yes, it’s a young world. Nothing’s the same, everything has moved on.
Yes, it’s a young world, it’s a young world. But I haven’t changed, so I don’t belong.
Tearing down statues and rewriting history.
People hating their country, it’s a mystery to me.
And my reaction to all I see and hear is just to yawn. Seems like a thousand years ago that I was born.
It’s a young world, yes, it’s a young world. Things have changed, everybody’s moved on.
Oh, and it’s a young world, oh, such a young world. But I’m just the same, so I don’t belong.
I’ve always been on my own; I don’t really mind. My journey is nearly done, my shadow is right behind.
I closed my ears to the world and all its lies, when there was too much to see I just shut my eyes.
Only I know how dark it feels, the pictures in my head will stay concealed.
I’m free to do what I like and say what I feel, I won’t bend to anyone: don’t expect me to kneel.
I’ve done no one any harm or been the cause of pain, I just don’t understand the way people play these games.
But it’s too late now, my fate is sealed. And the pain inside no one can steal.
What makes you think you can mend a broken man when so many others have failed to even understand?
Who are you to say that life is just a dream? And with a touch of your hand I can be redeemed?
Tell me something I can see is real: I have too many wounds for you to heal.
Running in the purple garden through the summer haze,
Harlequin wants us to ride across to yesterday.
Alice found a money tree so no one has to pay.
I’m following the Harlequin into the secret maze,
From the gate he calls my name and offers me a tray
But every time I lift my mask he looks the other way.
Over on the battlements someone’s keeping watch so we don’t miss our ride on the albatross.
Rainbows are passing all across the moon: Harlequin is calling the tune.
Red and gold is sparkling on the ladies’ gowns;
Harlequin is dancing now, spinning round and round.
No one wants to break the spell, no one makes a sound.
In the house while no one’s watching, letters write themselves.
Chinese boxes sealed forever sleeping on the shelves,
Photographs remind us of tales they can tell.
After all the guests have gone someone rings a bell.
Everything is how it was as far as I can tell.
Clockwork toys are marching back into their room,
Harlequin is calling the tune.
Like a book that’s never opened, a word too late to say,
Like a story long forgotten, your plans won’t see the light of day,
A toy lost in the attic, to the past it holds the key
A song that will never be sung, like chimes lost on the breeze.
The promised land was ours; lost at sea no more,
And trailing clouds of glory, we landed on the shore.
We climbed the hills of broken dreams, and still we were not free.
The ship could hear our cries for help, like chimes lost on the breeze.
We hear but we don’t listen, and go on our way.
But we should heed the chimes and what they say.
Oh, gentle man that fathered me: how can I make amends?
Did I really do enough to help you near the end?
You were from an age when you couldn’t say what your heart really needs.
His unspoken words I should have heard; now they’re chimes lost on the breeze.
We spend our lives gathering possessions from a list,
But there’s always a yearning for something that we’ve missed.
Building concrete towers and burning down the trees,
Until the last songbirds have gone like chimes lost on the breeze.
Oh, we hear but we don’t listen, and go on our way, etc.
Every sinner has a future; every saint has a past.
Time to start believing, the light is fading fast.
The race is almost run, time to fall down on your knees
Or your cries will never be heard, like chimes lost on the breeze.
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