No Twilight Within the Courts of the Sun Steven Wilson

Draggin’ a lake
Find the owner of the voice
I zip in the bag
And drove all across the noise
Examine the hairline
His archives in the strands
He turned into something
That puts the weakness in my hands
I see what I suppose
I breathe what I dispose
Black wheels get yellow in the sand
I steal every idea that I can

Instead of a person, a shadows in the lake
Instead of coercion, she blows its own grenade
I have an aversion to dying in a car
And I reach corrosion, a suitcase in the dark