Pink Floyd The Final Cut
The Final Cut

Through the fish-eyed lens of tear stained eyes...
I can barely define the shape of this moment in time...
And far from flying high in clear blue skies...
I'm spiraling down to the hole in the ground where I hide...

If you negotiate the minefield in the drive,
And beat the dogs and cheat the cold electronic eyes,
And if you make it past the shotgun in the hall,
Dial the combination, open the priesthole...
And if I'm in I'll tell you what's behind The Wall...