Explicit Music is the publishing company that deals with Wud Records and all of the bands that come under the Wud Records label. Explicit Music is headquartered in Exeter, England.

In forlorn castles too brief for living
We rose to catch the sound but were defeated
Just around the corner beyond the eyes
Beyond the skies we set ourselves as real
Like spaceships casting cosmic lines, left behind
With stars strewn from our astral selves and planets in our eyes

You walk along the road of life too high to see
The mountain you are climbing
Casting seeds and scrolls from our outstretched hands
The forgiven forget of the gift
And it’s too late, the ladder stretches up and down
And where do you stand in perspective to it all?

Can you imagine a place, a space that you have not been before
But which is not new to you?
A place you can recall softly, push through bad dreams
Make it real, remember
Complications contradict but reality sticks
And unbounded has its realms
In everything you see

Yes, what do you see?
Push through the dark vales to the sea
Cast your cosmic line wherever it may fall
Maybe you will find some higher guidance there or
Maybe you will find a place that you can truly rest
Maybe you will find some friends who love you the best

The tides of swirling memories
Are nearly gone but forgotten
Would you choose to beg or loose
The axis which you hold onto
Thirteen is the number, twelve it is the rite
Thirteen red eyed ravens
Outside the house at night

Outward, outward on out
Cast light, cast light about
Outward, outward on out
Look out, which way is far out?

Petty wages are falling like leaves, calling the master
To apprenticeship again
Will he recall the time, the chime of freedom
Blowing through his keyhole
Step down from your pedestal and mingle once again
With the crowds that you shunned as a youth

At the centre of the cyclone
Where all our thoughts are real
You’re cacooned in your mental egg
Imprisoned inside your head

If we look out the bars we’ve made
Can we maybe follow just a little way
To see there are no shackles to pass
Yet more fresh air, green fields and grass

And we are like the butterfly
We can’t take off, our wings aren’t dry
But soon if we shall heed the guides
The caterpillar metamorphosise

Words by Simon Miller. Copyright (c) Pok Songs 1984.