Jaap Edenhal, Amsterdam, Netherlands

The Holy Hour

“This is called The Holy Hour. It’s dedicated to Ian Curtis”

So Fuchsia sits
And watches someone’s play
And all the days break round her head
Follows her way

All around her head
The children move and sing
Oh, Fuchsia, let me hold you
Fuchsia, let me hold you

And so no one cares
Just a sea of happy faces
All around the entertainment goes by
And I look
And I see everything standing
And nothing changes
And nothing changes

It’s all dying
And just dying
And just dying
And just dying

Play for Today

It’s not a game of [?]
You know you’re always in the way
And the advice you fell

It’s not a case of share and share alike
I take what I require
You don’t understand [?]

You expect me to act like a lover
Consider my moves and deserve the reward
To hold you in my arms and wait and wait
And wait for something to happen

It’s not a case of telling the truth
Some lines just fit the situation
You call me a liar, you would anyway
It’s not a case of aiming to please
You know you’re always crying
It’s just your part in the play for today

At Night

Sunk deep in the night, I sink in the night
Standing alone underneath the sky
I wish I could feel everything like the way
I watch as everything goes by

I sleep, sleep in the same bed
Curled and protected, protected from sight
Under a safe roof, so deep in my house
Unaware of any thing at night
At night

I hear the darkness breathe
I sense the quiet despair
Listen to anything at night
But nothing ever has to be there
Nothing’s ever there

A Forest

“This is called A Forest.”

Come closer and see
See into the trees
Find the girl
If you really care
[?]
It’s summer again
Such a long way home
It’s the long way home

You stop to see
If I’m watching
If you can hear, the [hair?] falls all down
She’s oh so [tired?], and pulls the coat around her
She pulls me in
She pulls
Pulls me in

Her name is different
And it doesn’t really matter any more
It [always?] leads [?]
It’s always the same
I’m doing nothing
Again and again and again and again

Seventeen Seconds

“It’s the final song. It’s called Seventeen Seconds”

Time slips away, and the light begins to fade
And everything is cold now
Feeling is gone, and the picture disappears
And everything is cold now
The dream always ends, the wish never comes true
And the girl starts to sing

Seventeen seconds, a measure of nothing
Seventeen seconds

“And so what of the living”?
As they sit in his tree
And Fuchsia will die in that stone room before she talks to me
And then Sepulchrave
He thinks he’s an owl
Oh, I wish I wish I wish
I lived in a story

Forever

“This song is about boring old rock’n’roll. Everybody in your seat [?]”

Saw you [?]
Just another [?] stared as she stared at her
Someone she [?]
Screamed expectation you must be better than me
You must better than me
You must better than me
You must better than me
[?]
[?] nothing or someone in the crowd
[?] [?] the story
Another [?] la la la la la
Another [?] la la la la la
La la la la

[the rest is unintelligible on my copy]