Kingdom come come kingdom go  That you may carve upon my grave stone  When confined in a six walled box  I will no longer hear the clocks  Indifferenty ticking in cold deserted mansion halls  Kingdom come come kingdom go  Mementos relics crated cargo  A million things all left behind  Relationships with humankind  Conducted as if I was buying slaves at auction  Holding court at gross parties  Where punch drunk sycophants came slobbering  To suck my cocktails ...  I escaped upstairs to my collection  Titians tits and grand Goyas  Glower through the high stone traceries  Oily smears bequeathed by thirsty souls  Studied throughout my long daze  Scumbled paint in priceless fossils  Many a sad sullen pieta -  Christ eternal held away from me  Behind a brown and ancient glaze  In my collection  Facets of ego  Gradually eclipsing mass between the nursery and now  Struggling for meaning  Walking earth insensible  Flowerings of childhood turned to stringy vegetable  Troubled at night by flashbacks flashbacks flashbacks ...  Waaa Waaa Mummy  I don't want to go potty  Training: I don't want to share my toys with the other children  They're horrid  I ...  Child that I was then when was I last young?  When did comic wood bricks become trading in con-tricks?  When did innocence shudder and die?  Adolescent I planned to take total command  Draped vision's guilt edge on the bars of my play-pen  Hoped to arrest the swift passage of time  As though by some chance I could recreate Eden  Apple pie?  Lovely!  My hopes became a statue my mouth became a gun  In the hit parade of self interest I remained at number one  I was Mozart's old piano with a special gold inlay  I was always a lover of music but I never did learn to play  I thought I'd be saved by my collection to begin with  I thought I'd be saved by my collection  Would you believe it?  I did; but then ...  Nanny - Nanny Conscience?  Is that you standing at the end of my bed there Nanny?  My word, it's a long time since you've been round here  Out in the open - you're looking dreadful  I mean, so pale and interior;  Look at your skin ... My god, the wrinkles!!!!  Nanny-nan-nanny; had her made into a table lamp for me  Because I needed light to shine  But artificially  From her prim portals ... Oooooooo!  Nanny-nan-nanny  Don't you think it's about time you started being nice to me  Nanny?  One day soon I'm going to grow up big and strong  And my ego will build me a temple  And nobody in there will make me  Wash behind my ears or eat my greens or  Share my toys with the other children who are just horrid anyway  Not me  I drank myself as dry as a desert  Still in the end there was nothing left to call my own  This freedom from pain with which I toyed  Became a gateway to a void  The only values left were relative to power  The trouble with life in ivory towers  The seconds stretch until they fit the skins of hours  The faithless mates who come and go  They run away like melted snow  A temple to ego never constitutes a home  And though it seems sad  This jangling junk we are amassed  A passing pageant passing fast  There must be something  Something that can last more than the sense of life as just  A short and pointless overture  To death  Fear debilitating fear and death turn round in circles  Turn!  Kingdom come come kingdom go  Collecting clouds before the Son light  On pain of death our presents pass  Secreting habit over insight  Human soul is fertilised  Human span it's wombing season  Ward of conscience fragile child  Aborted by unfettered reason - that candle  Both ends burning  Collecting trash collecting gold  Vampires ego drains and clutches  When cross examined by the truth  It carves the cross up into crutches  Sharpened at both ends  Some friend ...  Freedom's Ling is donkey borne  A cross  The bleeding palms on main-street  Collecting nothing but the scorn  Of those who cannot bear their eyes to meet  Except in artificial light  Who needs to star in such a cast?  I leave collecting to the past  To one last party I asked them all and One  And when it was over I found that all but One haad gone  Did Jesus have a grave stone upon which to carve His name?  When He came collecting the grave gave up it's game  Now no-one collects worthwhile living  For it is a crop that grows from His seed of giving  Diaries  Drugs  A glittering crystal ball  Cathedrals  Palaces  Sweet sugar you can keep them all  Heaven is not for sale ...  BASS : CLIVE MITTEN  DRUMS, PERCUSSION AND PROGRAMMING : BRIAN DEVOIL  GUITARS : ANDY REVELL AND CLIVE MITTEN  KEYBOARDS : RICK BATTERSBY AND CLIVE MITTEN  VOCALS, SQUEAKY TOYS AND ASSORTED NOISES : GEOFF MANN  WRITTEN BY : ANDY, BRIAN, CLIVE, RICK AND GEOFF  ORIGINALLY RELEASED ON : PREVIOUSLY UNRELEASED