Under Cover Names - Peter Hammill

No thanks for the memory
No thanks at all
No way we can wipe the slate or contrive escape
From the names we're called
No thanks for the memory
Here it comes again
This life running on the spot
Though we hide a lot
With our cover names
We can no more change the past than shed our skins
But we keep on thinking that we might go someplace
Where not a soul knows what has gone before
With such headfuls of selfaccusation
That we don't even know our own names anymore
No thanks for the memory
No thanks
Call them by a different name and turn about
We can no more change our spots than wash them out
No thanks for the memory
Locked in the frame
No way we can change the pattern of things that happened
Under cover names
And we keep on skirting round the true confession
With fresh identities and bestlaid plans
And we keep on working to outreach the shadow
But the shadow will outrun the man
With such headfuls of selfaccusation
That no pseudonyms can hide our shame
Lost in a jungle of our own creation
Lost in a labyrinth of cover names
We can no more change the past than live again
We can no more shed our skins than know our real names
Nobody knows our real name
Nobody knows their real name
We hide under cover names
No thanks for the memory