[Written by Steven Wilson] Six of one a half a dozen Black guitars and plastic blues Hide behind a wall of nothing Nothing said and nothing new 4 Chords that made a million You belong there on the cover You are the emperor in new clothes A man who thinks he owns the future Will sell your vacuum with his prose 4 Chords that made a million And then a moron with a cheque book Will take you out to lunch who knows ? He will tell you you're a saviour And then he'll drop you like a stone 4 Chords that made a million And I have tried and I have died Trying to get through But in the end I can't defend you. 4 Chords that made a million