Analyse

Thom Yorke

A self-fulfilling prophecy of endless possibility
In rolling reams across a screen
In algebra, in algebra
The fences that you cannot climb

The sentences that do not rhyme
In all that you can ever change
I'm the one you're looking for

It gets you down
It gets you down

There's no spark
You've no light in the dark

It gets you down
It gets you down
You traveled far
What have you found
That there's no time
There's no time
To analyse
To think things through
To make sense

Like candles in the city, they never looked so pretty
By power cuts and blackouts
Sleeping like babies

It gets you down
It gets you down
You're just playing a part
You're just playing a part

You're playing a part
Playing a part
And there's no time
There's no time
To analyse
Analyse
Analyse