Porcupine Tree
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I remember piano lessons
The hours in freezing rooms
Cruel ears and tiny hands
Destroying timeless tunes

She said there's too much out there
Too much already said
You'd better give up hoping
You're better off in bed

You don't need much to speak of
No class, no wit, no soul
Forget you own agenda
Get ready to be sold

I feel now like Christine Keeler
Sleepwaking in the rain
I didn't mean to lose direction
I didn't want that kind of fame

(Take your hands off my land)

Credit me with some intelligence
(if not just credit me)
I come in value packs of ten
(in five varieties)

And even though I got it all now
My only stupid dream
I see you and me together
And how it should have been

I remember piano lessons
Now everything seems clear
You waiting under streetlights
For dreams to disappear

Credit me with some intelligence
(if not just credit me)
I come in value packs of ten
(in five varieties)

(Take your hands off my land)

Credit me with some intelligence
(if not just credit me)
I come in value packs of ten
(in five varieties)

Credit me with some intelligence
(if not just credit me)
I come in value packs of ten
(in five varieties)


Mirror lyrics:

(in five varieties)
I come in value packs of ten
(if not just credit me)
Credit me with some intelligence

(in five varieties)
I come in value packs of ten
(if not just credit me)
Credit me with some intelligence

(Take your hands off my land)

(in five varieties)
I come in value packs of ten
(if not just credit me)
Credit me with some intelligence

For dreams to disappear
You waiting under streetlights
Now everything seems clear
I remember piano lessons

And how it should have been
I see you and me together
My only stupid dream
And even though I got it all now

(in five varieties)
I come in value packs of ten
(if not just credit me)
Credit me with some intelligence

(Take your hands off my land)

I didn't want that kind of fame
I didn't mean to lose direction
Sleepwaking in the rain
I feel now like Christine Keeler

Get ready to be sold
Forget you own agenda
No class, no wit, no soul
You don't need much to speak of

You're better off in bed
You'd better give up hoping
Too much already said
She said there's too much out there

Destroying timeless tunes
Cruel ears and tiny hands
The hours in freezing rooms
I remember piano lessons


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