Storm In The Eye Of God (1983 electric original)

The sailorman who knew the truth
Below the shingle, sand and weed
Battened down the memories
Of the Motor Vessel "Cruel Deed"
The purple veins across his cheeks
Ran scarlet in the sunset's pyre
As he heard the bosun tell the crew that
There are no pictures in the fire
There is only a storm in the eye of God
Only a storm in the eye of God

The Eskimo had settled down
To sleep away the endless years
His rifle and his crucifix
He tied and tethered to his fears
Without the sun, his unicorn
Had perished in the frozen mire
He had learned the hunter's homily
That there are no pictures in the fire
There is only a storm in the eye of God
There's only a storm in the eye of God

The peasant squatted in the mud
Upon the ground that he had ploughed
His lifted eyes and leather lines
Appeasing every gathered cloud
His spirit, ash to history's flame
Went wheezing through the creeping briar
And the sun bled through the thorns and said
"There are no pictures in the fire
There is only a storm in the eye of God"

We let them in in their ones and twos
But when so many joined the bus
The peasants and the sailors and
The hunters and the rest of us
Took aim as they approached the flame
And shot away their leading tyre
For there may be comfort in our dreams
But there are no pictures in the fire
There is only a storm in the eye of God
There's only a storm in the eye of God
There's only a storm in the eye of God
Only a storm in the eye of God