Peter Hammill
The Top of the World Club
And the future spread before us like a feast
We saw clearly to the curve of the horizon
Felt like everything we'd wanted was in reach
All we so eagerly awaited
And the perfume on the air
Oh, I could taste it…

Decline and fall, decline and fall
Is coming to us…

And when the fall comes it will hit you pretty hard
When the fortified castle proves a house of cards
And the sweet cup of plenty's shattered into a million shards

Your Weltanschauung is now cut down at the core
And your self-estimation's falling through the floor
Now there's not much still standing of the edifice by which you once swore
And which you used to adore

The air is thin, the air is thin
The Top of the World Club's what we're in;
How thin the air, how thin the air
The Top of the World Club isn't there any more
My crawling skin, my crawling skin
What circle of hell are we fallen in
So dread and drear, so dread and drear
The pressure above an atmosphere, open-jawed
All the stars are darkening
All the stars extinguishing one by one
Worlds we thought were ours to own
Disappeared and gone
Disappeared
Disappeared