When routine bites hard, and ambitions are low. When resentment rides high, but emotion won't grow...and we're changing our ways, taking different roads. Love will tear us apart.

Nothing seems real anymore. Even the flames from the fire seem to beckon to me, drawing me into some great past life buried somewhere deep in my subconscious, if only I could find the key..if only..if only. Ever since my illness, my condition, I've been trying to find some logical way of passing my time, of justifying a means to an end.

I just want to carry on the way we [ Joy Division] are, I think. Basically, we want to play and enjoy what we like playing. I think when we stop doing that I think, well, that will be the time to pack it in. That'll be the end.

Love, love will tear us apart, again.

Pictures all around, of how good a life should be, a model for the rest, that bred insecurity, I walked a jagged line and then came back for more, it's always in my mind, an institution with no law.

I struggle between what I know is right in my own mind, and some warped truthfulness as seen through other people's eyes who have no heart, and can't see the difference anyway.

We said we'd never tour ... and we'll never do a tour, I don't think - or if we do it won't be longer than about two weeks.

Reality is only a term, based on values and well worn principles, whereas the dream goes on forever.

All my lyrics are open to interpretation by the individual and imply many different meanings, therefore their relevance is purely subjective.

I tend not to listen. When I'm listening to records, I don't listen to much new wave stuff, I tend to listen to the stuff I used to listen to a few years back but sort of odd singles.

They [ Factory Records] are always looking for the next group, the next big thing, to bring the record sales in and for them to promote and everything, but Factory just sign who they want to, put records by who they want to out, package it how they want to, how they like doing it. It's just run like that.