The Noise-Peter Hammill

I loved the Noise, electric breath; Noise filled the emptiness, roared in the emptiness. A noise to strip the paper clean off the wall, a noise to crack the masonry like a breaking-ball, the cutting edge of sonic, the wave that never breaks and the heart and soul are pumping me awake, me awake, me awake. I loved the Noise, shake to the core; that's what the Noise is for. Nothing came of nothing except what was left behind in the barrage of the bombard, under organ grind. I'm caught there in the moment, bug-eyed overnight drive and the heart and soul are pumping me alive, me alive, me alive, me alive. And in the rush of the silence with my arms wrapped round me warm I'm holding breath, impatient for the dark before the dawn... Just at the crack of daylight that'll be the curtain torn, that'll be the ground in a forewarning murmur of the Noise, of the storm. I loved the Noise, electric breath, Noise filled the emptiness. I loved the Noise, I loved the heat – pump-pulse that priming beat. A statement of intention, an elemental plan – the Noise is in the temple, the Noise is out of hand; the needle on the end stop, crescendo in the choir... yes, and the heart and soul are pumping me on fire, me on fire, me on fire, me on fire, me on fire, me on fire, me on fire, me on fire. I loved the Noise, I've drunk my fill; the Noise is with me still. I loved the Noise though now it's gone some glorious echoes of the Noise still linger on. Power on.