High Desert Vapes Friday Night Free E-Liquids Giveaway!!
- Thread starter Brewtus
- Start date
- th_trl_thread_readers 0
- Status
Oh the leaded window opened
but you moved the dancing candle flame
and the first moths of summer
suicidal came, oh suicidal came.
And the new breeze chattered
in its May-bud tenderness
sending water-lilies sailing
as she turned to get undressed.
And the long night awakened
and we soared on powdered wings
circling our tomorrows
in the wary month of spring.
Chasing shadows slipping
in the magic lantern's light -
creatures of the candle
on the night's light's rite.
Dipping and weaving, flutter
through the golden needle's eye
in our haystack madness, butterfly stroking
on a spring-tide high.
Life's too long (as the lemmings said)
as the candle burned and the moths were wed.
And we'll all burn together as the wick grows higher
before the candle's dead.
Oh the leaded window opened
but you moved the dancing candle flame.
And the first moths of summer
suicidal came, oh suicidal came,
to join in the worship
of the light that never dies
in the moments reflection
of two moths spinning in her eyes
Iron-clad feather-feet pounding the dust
An October's day, towards evening
Sweat embossed veins standing proud to the plough
salt on a deep chest seasoning
Last of the line at an honest day's toil
Turning the deep sod under
Flint at the fetlock, chasing the bone
Flies at the nostrils plunder.
The Suffolk, the Clydesdale, the Percheron vie
with the Shire on his feathers floating
Hauling soft timber into the dusk
to bed on a warm straw coating.
Heavy Horses, move the land under me
Behind the plough gliding --- slipping and sliding free
Now you're down to the few
And there's no work to do
The tractor's on its way.
Let me find you a filly for your proud stallion seed
to keep the old line going.
And we'll stand you abreast at the back of the wood
behind the young trees growing
To hide you from eyes that mock at your girth,
and your eighteen hands at the shoulder
And one day when the oil barons have all dripped dry
and the nights are seen to draw colder
They'll beg for your strength, your gentle power
your noble grace and your bearing
And you'll strain once again to the sound of the gulls
in the wake of the deep plough, sharing.
Standing like tanks on the brow of the hill
Up into the cold wind facing
In stiff battle harness, chained to the world
Against the low sun racing
Bring me a wheel of oaken wood
A rein of polished leather
A Heavy Horse and a tumbling sky
Brewing heavy weather.
Bring a song for the evening
Clean brass to flash the dawn
across these acres glistening
like dew on a carpet lawn
In these dark towns folk lie sleeping
as the heavy horses thunder by
to wake the dying city
with the living horseman's cry
At once the old hands quicken ---
bring pick and wisp and curry comb ---
thrill to the sound of all
the heavy horses coming home.
She wore a black tiara
rare gems upon her fingers
and she came from distant waters
where northern lights explode
to celebrate the dawning
of the new wastes of winter
gathering royal momentum
on the icy road.
With chill mists swirling
like petticoats in motion
sighted on horizons
for ten thousand years
the lady of the ice sounds
a deathly distant rumble
to Titanic-breaking children lost
in melting crystal tears.
Capturing black pieces
in a glass-fronted museum
the white queen rolls
on the chessboard of the dawn
squeezing through the valleys
pausing briefly in the corries
the Ice-Mother mates
and a new age is born.
Driving all before her
un-stoppable, un-straining
her cold creaking mass
follows reindeer down.
Thin spreading fingers seek
to embrace the sill-warm bundles
that huddle on the doorsteps
of a white London Town.
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here
I'm a needle on a spiral in a groove.
And the turntable spins
as the last waltz begins
And the weather-man says
something's on the move.
I walked out in the city night,
A burning in my eyes, like it was broad daylight.
And it was hot, down there in the crowd.
The stars went out behind a thunder cloud.
Chatter in the air, like a telegraph line.
Big drops hissing on the neon sign.
Thumping in my heart, and it's hurting me to see.
Smokestack blowing, now they're pouring
heavy water on me.
She was a southern girl. We stared man to man.
I move like a stranger in this strange land.
She was a round hole, I was a square peg.
I watched the little black specks running down her leg.
Didn't seem to mind that dirty rain coming down ---
shirt hanging open. She was wet and brown.
Thumping in my heart, and it's hurting me to see.
Smokestack blowing, now they're pouring
heavy water on me.
What goes up has to fall back down.
It's no night to be out dancing in a party town
when it runs hot and it runs so wide ---
running in the street like a thin black tide.
Chatter in the air, like a telegraph line.
Big drops hissing on the neon sign.
Thumping in my heart, and it's hurting me to see.
Smokestack blowing, now they're pouring
heavy water on me.
I always was the reckless kind, I do what I must do
I put the danger out of mind, and go on
I joined the barnstorm fliers back in 1922
And above those dusty farms , we put a shw on
Fly, fly to the western sky
Where the fog bank shifts and the danger lies
Why, why would you never learn
That you won't come back from the Immelman Turn?
Fly, fly to the red sunrise
Where the cloudbanks shift under copper skies
Why, why would you never learn
That you won't come back from the Immelman Turn?
From aboard a Curtiss Jenny, oh, you see things differently
And the farm boys wait for joyrides in the clearing
I went out walking on the wing in 1923
And above the engine noise I heard them cheering
[Repeat chorus]
You won't come back from the Immelman Turn
Why, why, why?
You won't come back from the Immelman Turn
Why, why, why?
There never was a one like you
Who knew that way to fly
But you won't come back from the Immelman Turn
Why, why, why?
The frost was on your aieleron's, and the wind was in your hair
When you went into the climb I saw you laughing
When the engine stalls and you start to spin
You won't get out of there
And a hush comes on the crowd as you go falling
[Repeat chorus]
[Repeat bridge]
Sometimes it seems unimaginable
That you were ever any other way
With your white rose face and your orphan clothes
Embroidered jeans and silver chains
You're a well known face in all the hang-out places
Where the lost souls congregate
You sit all night, but you talk too fast
I don't know what you're trying to say
Oh Carol, I think it's time for running for cover, a-ha
Believe me, you're everyone's and nobody's lover, a-ha
You've got a one-way ticket for all your yesterdays
I know your daddy said he'd talk to you
But he never really found the time
And your TV mother with her cocktail eyes
Could never really reach your mind
So you fixed your star to a passing dream
And took a ....... holiday
Now the years flow round you in a muddy stream
And you need another place to stay.
Oh Carol, I think it's time for running for cover, a-ha
Believe me, you're everyone's and nobody's lover, a-ha
You've got a one-way ticket for all your yesterdays
Reach down, silvery ship from the stars, I know you're there
I know you'll understand me, you can take me anywhere
I know you must be there
Well, sometimes it seems impossible
That the game could get that rough
But the stage is set, the exit's barred
And the make-up won't come off
So you make your bow to the balcony
You light another cigarette
And the lights grow dim as the music starts
And it's easy to forget
Oh Carol, I think it's time for running for cover, a-ha
Believe me, you're everyone's and nobody's lover, a-ha
You've got a one-way ticket for all your yesterdays
Reach down, silvery ship from the stars, I know you're there
I know you'll understand me, you can take me anywhere
I know you must be there
Linda was killed last Saturday about fifteen blocks from where she lives
In a car crash, people gathered ‘round the graveside friends and relatives dressed in black
Preacher mumblin' how she's bound to go to Heaven
The service started at half-past ten, it was all over by eleven.
They say it's God's to give, and God's to take away
But why He happened to pick Linda on a Saturday night, no one could say
Maybe it's just one of those things, one of those things.
They found guy the who did it, he had the lobotomy and the chicken eyes
And he gazed around the courtroom with a kind of vague surprise
Reminded me of one of those Vikings with the long-handled swords
The kind of guy even Joan Baez would not feel non-violent towards.
Said he wasn't looking, maybe he had had a bit too much
It was dark, it was raining, he didn't see the light or some such
It was just one of those things, one of those things.
I asked my local guru the situation and he gave me this reply
While pointing a bony finger up into the general direction of the sky
'Get on with your own life, it is not ours to reason why'
Said he used to worry about it once when he was young, now he doesn't even bother to try.
He left me with a feeling that what he said was basically sound
Like a black hole in space or philosophy, useless but profound
Just one of those things, one of those things.
Tonight I'm gonna take myself down to my local cafe
Gonna get smashed out of my mind, gonna waste myself away
Gonna drink and drink and sink into that dark abyss
I wanna be just like that Viking, I wanna know if ignorance is truly bliss.
Linda's in the cold ground, won't see her anymore
Somewhere out on the highway tonight, the drunken engines roar
It's just one of those things, one of those things.
Oh, just one of those things.
Shots split the night, a bullet lodged in his brain
He must have died instantly, he felt no pain
A crowd quickly gathered to the feast of the gun
Waiting for the ambulance and cops to come
Hm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm
Sirens wail in the concrete
Hm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm
Electric Los Angeles sunset, the sunset, the sunset, oh-o-oh
Headlight lit the faces by the tabernacle door
Gazing at the bloodstains on the damp sidewalk
As the crowd turned to go, a man was heard to say
"He must have had it comin' to him anyway"
Hm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm
Blood wagon rolls through the dragnet
Hm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm
Electric Los Angeles sunset, the sunset, the sunset, oh-o-oh
Cadillacs roll through the smoggy perfume
The buildings are choking on oxygen fumes
Evangelists praying in rented rooms, in the afternoon
Which way do the signposts read
African eyes in the sunrise
The gates of the city are rusted over and mouldering
The violence of the evening decays into the night
While shadows press like moths against the neon light
Movie queues diffuse into the Cinerama haze
While libertines read pornozines in street cafes
Hm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm
The madman swings in the pulpit
Hm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm
Electric Los Angeles sunset, the sunset, the sunset, oh-o-oh
Rainstorm, brainstorm, faces in the maelstrom
Huddle by the puddles in the shadows where the drains run
Hot dogs, wet clogs clicking up the sidewalk
Disappearing into the booze shop
Rainbow queues stand down by the news stand, waiting for the late show
Pin ball, sin hall, minds in free fall
Chocolate-coloured ladies making eyes through the smoke-pall
Soho (needless to say)
I'm alone on your streets on a Friday evening
I've been here all of the day
I'm going nowhere with nowhere to go
Football supporters taking the waters
They're looking round for the twilight daughters
Non-stop strip club pornographic bookshop
Come into the back and take your time and have a good look
Old man laughs with flowers in his hair
Newspaper headline "Middle East Deadline"
Jazz musicians are down on the breadline
Soho (needless to say)
I'm alone on your streets on a Friday evening
I've been here all of the day
I'm going nowhere with nowhere to go
Soho feeds the needs and hides the deeds, the mind that bleeds
Disenchanted, downstream in the night
Soho hears the lies, the twisted cries, the lonely sighs
Till she seems lost in dreams
The sun goes down on a neon eon
Though you'd have a job explaining it to Richard Coeur de Lion
Animation, bar conversation, anticipation, disinclination
Poor old wino turns with dust in his eyes
Begs for the dregs from the bottom of the kegs, man
You've never seen a lady lay down and spread her legs like
Soho (needless to say)
I'm alone on your sheets on a Friday evening
I've been here all of the day
I'm going nowhere with nowhere to go
Soho (needless to say)
I'm alone on your streets, or am I dreaming
I've been here all of the day
I'm going nowhere with nowhere to go
Creeping up the blind side, shinning up the wall
stealing through the dark of night
Climbing through a window, stepping to the floor
checking to the left and the right
Picking up the pieces, putting them away
something doesn't feel quite right
Help me someone, let me out of here
then out of the dark was suddenly heard
welcome to the Home by the Sea
Coming out the woodwork, thru the open door
pushing from above and below
shadows with no substance, in the shape of men
round and down and sideways they go
adrift without direction, eyes that hold despair
then as one they sigh and they moan
Help us someone, let us out of here
living here so long undisturbed
dreaming of the time we were free
so many years ago
before the time when we first heard
welcome to the Home by the Sea
Sit down Sit down
Sit down Sit down Sit down
as we relive our lives in what we tell you
Images of sorrow, pictures of delight
things that go to make up a life
endless days of summer longer nights of gloom
waiting for the morning light
scenes of unimportance, photos in a frame
things that go to make up a life
Help us someone, let us out of here
cos living here so long undisturbed
dreaming of the time we were free
so many years ago
before the time when we first heard
welcome to the Home by the Sea
Sit down Sit down
Sit down Sit down Sit down Sit down
as we relive our lives in what we tell you
let us relive our lives in what we tell you
Sit down Sit down Sit down
cos you won't get away
no with us you will stay
for the rest of your days - Sit down
As we relive our lives in what we tell you
Let us relive our lives in what we tell you
The rusted chains of prison moons
Are shattered by the sun.
I walk a road, horizons change
The tournament's begun.
The purple piper plays his tune,
The choir softly sing;
Three lullabies in an ancient tongue,
For the court of the crimson king.
The keeper of the city keys
Put shutters on the dreams.
I wait outside the pilgrim's door
With insufficient schemes.
The black queen chants
the funeral march,
The cracked brass bells will ring;
To summon back the fire witch
To the court of the crimson king.
The gardener plants an evergreen
Whilst trampling on a flower.
I chase the wind of a prism ship
To taste the sweet and sour.
The pattern juggler lifts his hand;
The orchestra begin.
As slowly turns the grinding wheel
In the court of the crimson king.
On soft gray mornings widows cry
The wise men share a joke;
I run to grasp divining signs
To satisfy the hoax.
The yellow jester does not play
But gentle pulls the strings
And smiles as the puppets dance
In the court of the crimson king.
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
When 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.
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
If 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.
- Status
Similar threads
- Locked
- Locked
