The Straw - Lyrics - Idiot Flesh

We are the hollow men We're the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. (Alas!) Our dried voices (when we whisper together) Are quiet (and meaningless) as wind in dry grass Or rats' feet over broken glass (in our dry cellar) Shape without form (shade without colour, paralysed force, gesture without motion) Let me wear disguises Rat's coat, crowskin Behaving as the wind behaves This is the dead land This is cactus land Here they receive the supplication of a dead man's hand Waking alone Lips that would kiss Form prayers to broken stone The eyes are not here There are no eyes here In this hollow valley This broken jaw In this last of meeting places We grope together and avoid speech Here we go round the prickly pear, Prickly pear, prickly pear Here we go round the prickly pear, At five o'clock in the morning Between the idea and the reality Between the motion and the act falls the Shadow For Thine is the Kingdom Between the conception and the creation Between the emotion and the response falls the Shadow Life is very long Between the desire and the spasm Between the potency and the existence Between the essence and the descent falls the Shadow For Thine is the Kingdom For Thine is, life is, for Thine is the... This is the way the world ends Not with a *** but a whimper, thank you very much, good night.