An open door is calling you To a field of free through a haze of blue To a state of mind from the deepest sleep From the crucifier to a sweet release From a black despair to a love affair In the colourfield, the colourfield War is red, peace is blue But to hope for it is not enough One misguided missiles Clouds for the bible The hand's reaching down controlling your life You get no choice at all when you're asked to decide You'll dig your own grave when your spirit has died All the doors are locked when opportunity's knocked In the colourfield, the colourfield All you need is a peace of mind But even that is hard to find It could be under, be upper, be upbeat or downbeat Frantic, neurotic, romantic, exotic You've lost control The dream's gone cold It's kind of sad You've sold your soul To the colourfield, the colourfield