Seems Porcupine Tree's SW likes his transport disasters.
What Happens Now:
Well I could be boarding an aircraft
With a bomb concealed in somebody's briefcase
My body would spread through the heavens, across the sky
My ashes would fall through the cloudburst
What happens now?
Trains:
A sixty tonne angel falls to the earth
A pile of old metal, a radiant blur
Scars in the country ...
What Happens Now:
Well I could be boarding an aircraft
With a bomb concealed in somebody's briefcase
My body would spread through the heavens, across the sky
My ashes would fall through the cloudburst
What happens now?
Trains:
A sixty tonne angel falls to the earth
A pile of old metal, a radiant blur
Scars in the country ...