If there was no autopsy in 1947, just a man in his flat in Camden; What of the Aztec crash, and the Hills' missing past? Did the Phoenix Lights fall from the sky? Is the truth hidden safe? I'd settle for knowing there is a truth.
I want to believe, though I know there's nothing to be seen. It's a dark night and an empty sky, and a world full of restless minds.
You hear of the coverups in a silent undercurrent, men who disappear for good; But we've been warring for about ten thousand years, and you'd be wise if you assumed: If those grey men land, they'll possess sense enough to flee.
The truth is out there: we're stark, dead alone; The truth is out there, if we're stark, dead alone; The truth is out there, and we're stark, dead...