Текст: Brian Eno. Empty Frame.

So they rode the sea,
It went on and on
They were years away
Though it seemed so long
But the captain never told them what he knew
As the poor ship laboured on through the endless blue.
Oh the storm was strong
And the ship was so frail
But they stumbled on
Raising broken sails,
And they held the heavy sky on their open hands
And they dreamed of when their poor feet would touch the land.
Baby, we're going round in circles!


Where is this place we're going to?
Does anybody know we're out here on the waves?

And are any of our signals coming through?
We're going 'round in circles.


We have no single point of view.
And like the clouds that turn to every passing wind,
We turn to any signal that comes through.
At the edge of the sea
Were the signs of the dove -
But the wrong way out
And the wrong way up.
We pushed the empty frame of reason out the cabinet door,
No we won't be needing reason anymore.
Ooh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh, yeah yeah yeah, yeah yeah.