The Séance
Steven Wilson
Under gas light the joining of hands
Chanting a name over and over
A table tilts the circle is broken
Doubting no more
They pay what they owe her
Disembodied a luminous hand
Holding the air, passing the current
A voice is channeled, a rope is uncoiled
Flicker the light
And someone is here
We go following sorrow to feel your
Blood spilling out of the reeds there
Give me a sign I can breathe air
Blood flowing out of the stream there
(give me something new please, something I can love)