London, summer '92
I think I've changed a lot since then, do you?
Ideas that I'd held for years, emotional baggage, hopes and fears
Seen somehow in a different light, not as wrong, but not as right as they seemed before
Was I different then?
Have I changed?
And will I change again?
I'm thinking of a mental free-fall, a partial total memory recall
Like what of the future, what of the past, what of the present will last?
And say I did forget and revert to the old days, forget this hurt
Am I better off or in reverse, untaught by experience and therefore worse?

I mean a lot, I mean a little
I mean a lot, I mean a little

I'm like a coastline, a beach and spit
Spurn Point and the rest of it
The sea, the tide, the salt and foam
I'm the blasted land, the sand shifting, drifting out and back
Then breached, drowned, defenses down
Rebuilt from this day on
Or maybe not, maybe my moment's gone

I mean a lot, I mean a little
I mean a lot, I mean a little

Am I the same person I seemed to be?
Does all of this depress me?
I won't listen, I won't talk
A weightless life, I moonwalk
I mean a lot, I mean a little
I'm supple, brittle, pig in the middle
There's resilience inside my face, but sometimes nothing
Deep space

What I feel and what I fear is always here my atmosphere
Piggy in the middle
I mean a lot, I mean a little
I mean a lot, I mean a little