"Twighlight's Peak" genre: Goth
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	A floaty radiophonic lament on dissappointment and the human condition.
	Credits: Marie Shrewsbury
	Story Behind the Song I write this pretty much in one sitting when I was feeling very depressed and it felt like things kept getting worse and worse. Lyrics The fires burn around me still A torch cold, blue and numb Wandering through the wreckage of rubble and of stone My skin is pale, my heart is cold but the fires won't desist When I have no-one left to please I have no reason to exist The sunset hangs in tatters now A beacon red and vile The end to come that feels so near Yet forever won't arrive My eyes are glazed, my head opaque Yet neuroses still are driven I don't know what it is I want But it's not what I'm being given The finest wines of heaven turn to poison at my lips, and the hand that grasps the chalice, fine tremours do enfold All the things that I touch All the things that I see All the things I can taste Everything I can be Will never be good enough for me

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