A Gap In The Night Lyrics
| Song | A Gap In The Night |
| Artist | The Tangent |
| Album | The World That We Drive Through |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| (In Darkest Dreams Part II) | |
| For Neal who found what he searched, | |
| From one who searched and found something entirely different | |
| I. Ante-Room | |
| And in the REM movement, reality restores, | |
| A harsh-edged ambiance moves in, | |
| Kicks me out the bedroom door | |
| Adventuring in the real world, | |
| Of substance, time and change | |
| Turn off the gap! | |
| Forget the gap! | |
| II. Time For You | |
| [instrumental] | |
| III. Troubled Awakenings | |
| Where is this place that I see here? | |
| What is is this place? From whence this fear? | |
| This is not my world | |
| Whose is this room that I sit in? | |
| Whose is the light that shines so dim? | |
| This is not my world | |
| What am I doing here at all? | |
| If I look down will I fall? | |
| These thoughts cross my mind as… | |
| I burn the midnight lamp | |
| As I sit in my tiny room | |
| IV. The Inanimate Object Conspiracy | |
| Something's wrong with the inanimate! | |
| The furniture is crowding in… | |
| The ceiling swins on a pendulum, | |
| Opens up onto a world that lies within | |
| Buildings that rise up and claw at the sky, | |
| Shatter the blue and cry out in the night | |
| Sucking me upwards into the fright and hell of this dream | |
| The labyrinth is oh, so personal, | |
| I'm caught up in my own esteem, | |
| Questioning the real environment, | |
| As though I were the only object in its beam | |
| Falling through space in a gap in the night | |
| My body is torn through a sleep in the heights | |
| Of oblivion and intrigue, | |
| And a consuming passion to know who I am | |
| V. The Street Light Watershed | |
| Here in the half light the orange streetbulbs cast, | |
| Through the curtains of my room, | |
| I wait for the morning, | |
| As if somehow that will change all my negative thoughts | |
| But this is not me, this is not who I am | |
| It's just an echo of my former self, | |
| Escaping through the log-jam | |
| Caught by the upsurge, | |
| I feel self-pity crawl my body like a fever, | |
| I'm stuck here at square one, | |
| The all-time-loser who never fills the coupon in | |
| This is not me | |
| This is not how I am | |
| It's just an echo of my former self | |
| Escaping through the log-jam | |
| When I feel the power, | |
| I know that it's time to start | |
| The pen runs before me | |
| Leads me deep to the heart | |
| VI. This Is Not The End Of The World | |
| (But You Can See It From Here) | |
| If I wait for an eternity will I ever find the truth? | |
| If I search a hundred years or more | |
| Will I ever solve the questions of my youth? | |
| Won't someone believe me? | |
| Won't somebody take away the pain from this frame? | |
| It's no game, you can see the end of the world on a clear day | |
| VII. The Gap Yawns, The Orchestra Goes Doo-Lally | |
| [instrumental] | |
| VIII. The Ante-Room (Part II) | |
| And in the REM movement, reality restores, | |
| A harsh-edged ambiance moves in, | |
| Kicks me out the bedroom door | |
| Adventuring in the real world, | |
| Of substance, time and change | |
| Turn off the gap! | |
| Forget the gap! | |
| I am fugitive in the waking world | |
| A nomad caught under ice, | |
| With all the buzzing lines around me, | |
| Where each second has its price, | |
| And the seconds turn to hours | |
| The hours turn to lives | |
| And I live through a thousand each night | |
| Before the daylight finally arrives | |
| And I know that the daytime is just a gap in the night | |
| I'm tired and not ready for the fight | |
| Turn off the gap! | |
| And nobody says who I'm living, or | |
| Whose eyes I'm seeing through, | |
| The actions so unforgiving and | |
| I can't crawl back to you | |
| I'm tired of fighting an unrelenting force | |
| I'm tired and searching for a course to steer, | |
| In my flimsy boat of reeds | |
| Trying in vain to cross a surging, stormy sea, | |
| Of self-conscious analysis | |
| IX. The Gap In The Night | |
| [instrumental] |
| In Darkest Dreams Part II | |
| For Neal who found what he searched, | |
| From one who searched and found something entirely different | |
| I. AnteRoom | |
| And in the REM movement, reality restores, | |
| A harshedged ambiance moves in, | |
| Kicks me out the bedroom door | |
| Adventuring in the real world, | |
| Of substance, time and change | |
| Turn off the gap! | |
| Forget the gap! | |
| II. Time For You | |
| instrumental | |
| III. Troubled Awakenings | |
| Where is this place that I see here? | |
| What is is this place? From whence this fear? | |
| This is not my world | |
| Whose is this room that I sit in? | |
| Whose is the light that shines so dim? | |
| This is not my world | |
| What am I doing here at all? | |
| If I look down will I fall? | |
| These thoughts cross my mind as | |
| I burn the midnight lamp | |
| As I sit in my tiny room | |
| IV. The Inanimate Object Conspiracy | |
| Something' s wrong with the inanimate! | |
| The furniture is crowding in | |
| The ceiling swins on a pendulum, | |
| Opens up onto a world that lies within | |
| Buildings that rise up and claw at the sky, | |
| Shatter the blue and cry out in the night | |
| Sucking me upwards into the fright and hell of this dream | |
| The labyrinth is oh, so personal, | |
| I' m caught up in my own esteem, | |
| Questioning the real environment, | |
| As though I were the only object in its beam | |
| Falling through space in a gap in the night | |
| My body is torn through a sleep in the heights | |
| Of oblivion and intrigue, | |
| And a consuming passion to know who I am | |
| V. The Street Light Watershed | |
| Here in the half light the orange streetbulbs cast, | |
| Through the curtains of my room, | |
| I wait for the morning, | |
| As if somehow that will change all my negative thoughts | |
| But this is not me, this is not who I am | |
| It' s just an echo of my former self, | |
| Escaping through the logjam | |
| Caught by the upsurge, | |
| I feel selfpity crawl my body like a fever, | |
| I' m stuck here at square one, | |
| The alltimeloser who never fills the coupon in | |
| This is not me | |
| This is not how I am | |
| It' s just an echo of my former self | |
| Escaping through the logjam | |
| When I feel the power, | |
| I know that it' s time to start | |
| The pen runs before me | |
| Leads me deep to the heart | |
| VI. This Is Not The End Of The World | |
| But You Can See It From Here | |
| If I wait for an eternity will I ever find the truth? | |
| If I search a hundred years or more | |
| Will I ever solve the questions of my youth? | |
| Won' t someone believe me? | |
| Won' t somebody take away the pain from this frame? | |
| It' s no game, you can see the end of the world on a clear day | |
| VII. The Gap Yawns, The Orchestra Goes DooLally | |
| instrumental | |
| VIII. The AnteRoom Part II | |
| And in the REM movement, reality restores, | |
| A harshedged ambiance moves in, | |
| Kicks me out the bedroom door | |
| Adventuring in the real world, | |
| Of substance, time and change | |
| Turn off the gap! | |
| Forget the gap! | |
| I am fugitive in the waking world | |
| A nomad caught under ice, | |
| With all the buzzing lines around me, | |
| Where each second has its price, | |
| And the seconds turn to hours | |
| The hours turn to lives | |
| And I live through a thousand each night | |
| Before the daylight finally arrives | |
| And I know that the daytime is just a gap in the night | |
| I' m tired and not ready for the fight | |
| Turn off the gap! | |
| And nobody says who I' m living, or | |
| Whose eyes I' m seeing through, | |
| The actions so unforgiving and | |
| I can' t crawl back to you | |
| I' m tired of fighting an unrelenting force | |
| I' m tired and searching for a course to steer, | |
| In my flimsy boat of reeds | |
| Trying in vain to cross a surging, stormy sea, | |
| Of selfconscious analysis | |
| IX. The Gap In The Night | |
| instrumental |
| In Darkest Dreams Part II | |
| For Neal who found what he searched, | |
| From one who searched and found something entirely different | |
| I. AnteRoom | |
| And in the REM movement, reality restores, | |
| A harshedged ambiance moves in, | |
| Kicks me out the bedroom door | |
| Adventuring in the real world, | |
| Of substance, time and change | |
| Turn off the gap! | |
| Forget the gap! | |
| II. Time For You | |
| instrumental | |
| III. Troubled Awakenings | |
| Where is this place that I see here? | |
| What is is this place? From whence this fear? | |
| This is not my world | |
| Whose is this room that I sit in? | |
| Whose is the light that shines so dim? | |
| This is not my world | |
| What am I doing here at all? | |
| If I look down will I fall? | |
| These thoughts cross my mind as | |
| I burn the midnight lamp | |
| As I sit in my tiny room | |
| IV. The Inanimate Object Conspiracy | |
| Something' s wrong with the inanimate! | |
| The furniture is crowding in | |
| The ceiling swins on a pendulum, | |
| Opens up onto a world that lies within | |
| Buildings that rise up and claw at the sky, | |
| Shatter the blue and cry out in the night | |
| Sucking me upwards into the fright and hell of this dream | |
| The labyrinth is oh, so personal, | |
| I' m caught up in my own esteem, | |
| Questioning the real environment, | |
| As though I were the only object in its beam | |
| Falling through space in a gap in the night | |
| My body is torn through a sleep in the heights | |
| Of oblivion and intrigue, | |
| And a consuming passion to know who I am | |
| V. The Street Light Watershed | |
| Here in the half light the orange streetbulbs cast, | |
| Through the curtains of my room, | |
| I wait for the morning, | |
| As if somehow that will change all my negative thoughts | |
| But this is not me, this is not who I am | |
| It' s just an echo of my former self, | |
| Escaping through the logjam | |
| Caught by the upsurge, | |
| I feel selfpity crawl my body like a fever, | |
| I' m stuck here at square one, | |
| The alltimeloser who never fills the coupon in | |
| This is not me | |
| This is not how I am | |
| It' s just an echo of my former self | |
| Escaping through the logjam | |
| When I feel the power, | |
| I know that it' s time to start | |
| The pen runs before me | |
| Leads me deep to the heart | |
| VI. This Is Not The End Of The World | |
| But You Can See It From Here | |
| If I wait for an eternity will I ever find the truth? | |
| If I search a hundred years or more | |
| Will I ever solve the questions of my youth? | |
| Won' t someone believe me? | |
| Won' t somebody take away the pain from this frame? | |
| It' s no game, you can see the end of the world on a clear day | |
| VII. The Gap Yawns, The Orchestra Goes DooLally | |
| instrumental | |
| VIII. The AnteRoom Part II | |
| And in the REM movement, reality restores, | |
| A harshedged ambiance moves in, | |
| Kicks me out the bedroom door | |
| Adventuring in the real world, | |
| Of substance, time and change | |
| Turn off the gap! | |
| Forget the gap! | |
| I am fugitive in the waking world | |
| A nomad caught under ice, | |
| With all the buzzing lines around me, | |
| Where each second has its price, | |
| And the seconds turn to hours | |
| The hours turn to lives | |
| And I live through a thousand each night | |
| Before the daylight finally arrives | |
| And I know that the daytime is just a gap in the night | |
| I' m tired and not ready for the fight | |
| Turn off the gap! | |
| And nobody says who I' m living, or | |
| Whose eyes I' m seeing through, | |
| The actions so unforgiving and | |
| I can' t crawl back to you | |
| I' m tired of fighting an unrelenting force | |
| I' m tired and searching for a course to steer, | |
| In my flimsy boat of reeds | |
| Trying in vain to cross a surging, stormy sea, | |
| Of selfconscious analysis | |
| IX. The Gap In The Night | |
| instrumental |
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