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 night
  
   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 the 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 a 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 fruit falls
   Its fruits are tasting strange
   The apple tree is shaking