[Written by Steven Wilson]



Six of one a half a dozen

Black guitars and plastic blues

Hide behind a wall of nothing

Nothing said and nothing new



4 Chords that made a million



You belong there on the cover

You are the emperor in new clothes

A man who thinks he owns the future

Will sell your vacuum with his prose



4 Chords that made a million



And then a moron with a cheque book

Will take you out to lunch who knows ?

He will tell you you're a saviour

And then he'll drop you like a stone



4 Chords that made a million



And I have tried and I have died

Trying to get through

But in the end I can't defend you.



4 Chords that made a million