Van Der Graaf Generator

(Hammill)
Letters in pencil, some of them as heavy as lead,
as dated as carbon, as black as coal, but burning as red.
Clues faintly stencilled: the message, though leeched, is unbled,
as secret as marble - as young, as old, as living, as dead.
And always that laugh
that comes as though it's from pain:
though I'm lashed to the mast
still it hammers round my brain.
Laughter in the backbone,
laughter impossibly wise,
that same laughter that comes
every time I flash on that look in your eyes
which whispers of a black zone
which'll mock all my credos as lies,
where all logic is done
and time will smash every theory I devise.
And the hour-glass is shattered
only by the magic of your touch
where nothing really matters....