Sometimes, it all gets to be just a bit much...
The wall on which the prophets wrote
Is cracking at the seams.
Upon the instruments of death
The sunlight brightly gleams.
When every man is torn apart
With nightmares and with dreams,
Will no one lay the laurel wreath
As silence drowns the screams?
Confusion will be my epitaph.
As I crawl a cracked and broken path
If we make it we can all sit back and laugh.
But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying,
Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying.
Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying.
Between the iron gates of fate,
The seeds of time were sown,
And watered by the deeds of those
Who know and who are known;
Knowledge is a deadly friend
When no one sets the rules.
The fate of all mankind I see
Is in the hands of fools.
Confusion will be my epitaph.
As I crawl a cracked and broken path
If we make it we can all sit back and laugh.
But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying,
Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying.
Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying.
[Robert Fripp / Greg Lake]
And for relief:
The wanderer has far to go
Humble must he constant be
Where the paths of wisdom lead
Distant is the shadow of the setting sun.
Bless the daytime, bless the night
Bless the sun which gives us light
Bless the thunder, bless the rain
Bless all those who cause us pain.
Yellow stars may lead the way
All diversions lead astray
While his resolution holds
Fortune and good will will surely follow him.
Bless the free man, bless the slave
Bless the hero in his grave
Bless the soldier, bless the saint
Bless all those whose hearts grow faint.
Bless the daytime, bless the night
Bless the sun which gives us light
Bless the thunder, bless the rain
Bless all those who cause us pain.
Bless the free man, bless the slave
Bless the hero in his grave
Bless the soldier, bless the saint
Bless all those whose hearts grow faint.
Bless the daytime, bless the night
Bless the sun which gives us light
Bless the thunder, bless the rain
Bless all those who cause us pain.
Bless the free man, bless the slave
Bless the hero in his grave
Bless the soldier, bless the saint
Bless all those whose hearts grow faint.
[David Cousins]
Can't fault your taste in music.
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