KING CRIMSON******************************************************************** IN THE COURT OF THE CRIMSON KING an observation by KING CRIMSON ****************************************************************** Side One 1. 21st CENTURY SCHIZOID MAN Including MIRRORS (Fripp-MoDonald-Lake-Giles-Sinfield) (6.52) Cat's foot iron claw Neuro-surgeons scream for more At paranoia's poison door Twenty first century schizoid man. Blood rack barbed wire Politicians' funeral pyre Innocents raped with napalm fire Twenty first century schizoid man. Death seed blind man's greed Poets' starving children bleed Nothing he's got he really needs Twenty first century schizoid man. 2. I TALK TO THE WIND (5.40) (MoDonald-Sinfield) Said the straight man to the late man Where have you been I've been here and I've been there And I've been in between. I talk to the wind My words are all carried away I talk to the wind The wind does not hear The wind cannot hear. I'm on the outside looking inside What do I see You don't possess me Don't impress me Just upset my mind Can't instruct me or conduct me Just use up my time. I talk to the wind My words are all carried away I talk to the wind The wind does not hear The wind cannot hear. 3. EPITAPH (8.30) Including MARCH FOR NO REASON and TOMORROW AND TOMORROW (Fripp-MoDonald-Lake-Giles-Sinfield) 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. 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 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. ****************************************************************** ** IN THE COURT OF THE CRIMSON KING an observation by KING CRIMSON ****************************************************************** Side Two 1. MOONCHILD (12.09) Including THE DREAM and THE ILLUSION (Fripp-MoDonald-Lake-Giles-Sinfield) Call her moonchild Dancing in the shallows of the river Lonely moonchild Dreaming in the shadow of the willow. Talking to the trees of the cobweb strange Sleeping on the steps of a fountain Waving silver wands to the night-birds song Waiting for the sun on the mountain. She's a moonchild Gathering the flowers in a garden. Lovely moonchild Drifting on the echoes of the hours. Sailing on the wind in a milk white gown Dropping circle stones on a sun dial Playing hide and seek with the ghosts of dawn Waiting for a smile from a sun child. 2. THE COURT OF THE CRIMSON KING Including RETURN OF THE FIRE WITCH and THE DANCE OF THE PUPPETS (MoDonald-Sinfield) (8.48) 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. The 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 grey 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 gently pulls the strings And smiles as the puppets dance In the court of the crimson king. IN THE COURT OF THE CRIMSON KING an observation by KING CRIMSON PERSONNEL Robert Fripp - guitar Ian McDonald - reeds, woodwind, vibes, keyboards, mellotron, vocals Gred Lake - bass guitar, lead vocals Michael Giles - drums, percussion, vocals Peter Sinfield - words and ellumination All songs published by E.G.Music Ltd. Recorded at Wessex Sound Studios, London Engineer: Robin Thompson Assistant Engineer: Tony Page PRODUCED BY KING CRIMSON FOR E.G.RECORDS Author: King Crimson Album title: Beat Neal and Jack and Me I'm wheels, I am moving wheels I am a 1952 studebaker coupe I'm wheels, I am moving wheels moving wheels I am a 1952 starlite coupe... En route.....les Souterrains Des visions du Cody...Sartori a Paris... Strange spaghetti in this solemn city... There's a postcard we're all seen before... Past wild-haired teens in dark clothing With hands-full of autographed napkins we eat apples in vans with sandwiches ... rush Into the lobby life of hurry up and wait Hurry up and wait for all the odd-shaped keys Which lead to new soap and envelopes... Hotel room homesickness on a fresh blue bed And the longest-ever phone call home.....no Sleep no sleep no sleep no sleep and no mad Video machine to eat time... a cityscene I can't explain, the Seine alone at 4am The Seine alone at 4a.....Neal and Jack and me Absent lovers, absent lovers... Heartbeat I need to feel your heartbeat heartbeat so close, feels like mine all mine I need to feel your heartbeat heartbeat so close it feels like mine all mine... I remember the feeling my hands in your hair hands in your hair I remember the feeling of the rhythm we made the rhythm we made I need to land sometime right next to you feel your heartbeat heartbeat right next to me..... Sartori in Tangier (instrumental) Waiting Man I come back...come back you see my return my returning face is smiling smile of a waiting man... I be home soon soon soon soon cry on your shoulder your shoulder against my burning tears tears of a waiting man... one two three four one two three... I wait every moment I wait, wait for my chance I wait for my friend to say hello, you waiting man feel no fret feel no fret feel no fret you can wait and feel no fret and so I wait so I wait so I wait so I wait I return face is smiling be home soon cry on your shoulder tears of a waiting man every moment wait for my chance my friend say hello feel no fret you can wait and I wait and I wait and home I am... Neurotica Good morning, it's 3am in this great roaring city full of garbage eaters ravaging parking spots beneath my plaza window I see cheetah in their tight skins and tired heels all-night hippo in the diner crossing the street swarthy heards of young impala flambastic gibbon even a struggling monza and over there that brilliant head ornament on that Japanese macaque but look closely at the hammerhead hand in hand with the mandrill, it's a sight you're unlikely to see anywhere else on the planet... the stench and noise, yes, yes, the howler's resonating repertoire is not too bad when mixed with the more musical twern of the tropical warbler but the impatient taxi blare the squawking elderly ibis and the glass-eye snapper hawking papers I can certainly live without also be cautious of the poisonous boomslang laughter social droppings of the fruit bat and purple queen fish and who's that babbler conversing with a magazine stand? evidently he's getting a good reply... arrive in neurotica through neon heat disease I swear at the swarming heards I sweat the foul terrain I rove the moving scenery I have no fin no wing no stinger no claw no camouflage I have no more to say... Say...isn't that an elephant fish on the corner over there look at that blush baby mud puppy noolbenger rhinoderma marmoset spring peeper shingleback skink siren skate starling sun-gazer spoonbill and suckers, they seem to be everywhere, well it's a live revue random animal parts now playing nightly right here in neurotica... so long... Two Hands Oh they're touching They're touching each other They're feeling They push and move And love each other, love each other They fit together like two hands... I am a face in the painting on the wall I pose and shudder And watch from the foot of the bed Sometimes I think I can Feel everything... The wind is blowing My hair in their direction The wind is bending my hair There are no windows in the painting No open windows, no open windows, no... The Howler Here is the angel of the world's desire Placed on trial To hide in shrouded alley sihouettes With cigarette coiled To stike at passing voices Dark and suspect Here is the howling ire Here is the sacred face of rendevous In subway sour Whose grand delusions prey like intellect In lunatic minds Intent and focused on The long thin matches To light the howling fire... No, no, not me, Burn, I don't wanna burn..... Requiem (instrumental) Your request matches 1 albums and 8 songs. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Directory: /u9/ftp/pub/music/lyrics/files/king.crimson File: court.crimson.king Author: King Crimson Album title: In the Court of the Crimson King - an Observation by King Crimson 21st Century Schizoid Man including Mirrors Cat's foot iron claw Neuro-surgeons scream for more At paranoia's poison door. Twenty first century schizoid man. Blood rack barbed wire Polititians' funeral pyre Innocents raped with napalm fire Twenty first century schizoid man. Death seed blind man's greed Poets' starving children bleed Nothing he's got he really needs Twenty first century schizoid man. I Talk to the Wind Said the straight man to the late man Where have you been I've been here and I've been there And I've been in between. I talk to the wind My words are all carried away I talk to the wind The wind does not hear The wind cannot hear. I'm on the outside looking inside What do I see Much confusion, disillusion All around me. You don't possess me Don't impress me Just upset my mind Can't instruct me or conduct me Just use up my time I talk to the wind My words are all carried away I talk to the wind The wind does not hear The wind cannot hear. Epitaph including March for no Reason and Tommorow and Tommorow The wall on which the prophets wrote Is cracking at the seams. Upon the instruments if 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. 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. Moonchild including The Dream and The Illusion Call her moonchild Dancing in the shallows of a river Lovely moonchild Dreaming in the shadow of the willow. Talking to the trees of the cobweb strange Sleeping on the steps of a fountain Waving silver wands to the night-birds song Waiting for the sun on the mountain. She's a moonchild Gathering the flowers in a garden. Lovely moonchild Drifting on the echoes of the hours. Sailing on the wind in a milk white gown Dropping circle stones on a sun dial Playing hide and seek with the ghosts of dawn Waiting for a smile from a sun child. The Court of the Crimson King including The Return of the Fire Witch and The Dance of the Puppets 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. Your request matches 1 albums and 5 songs. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Directory: /u9/ftp/pub/music/lyrics/files/king.crimson File: discipline Author: King Crimson Album title: Discipline (excerpts) Elephant Talk -------- ---- Talk, it's only talk Arguments, agreements, advice, answers, Articulate announcements It's only talk Talk, it's only talk Babble, burble, banter, bicker bicker bicker Brouhaha, boulderdash, ballyhoo It's only talk Back talk Talk talk talk, it's only talk Comments, cliches, commentary, controversy Chatter, chit-chat, chit-chat, chit-chat, Conversation, contradiction, criticism It's only talk Cheap talk Talk, talk, it's only talk Debates, discussions These are words with a D this time Dialogue, dualogue, diatribe, Dissention, declamation Double talk, double talk Talk, talk, it's all talk Too much talk Small talk Talk that trash Expressions, editorials, expugnations, exclamations, enfadulations It's all talk Elephant talk, elephant talk, elephant talk Indiscipline ------------ I do remember one thing. It took hours and hours but.. by the time I was done with it, I was so involved, I didn't know what to think. I carried it around with me for days and days.. playing little games like not looking at it for a whole day and then.. looking at it. to see if I still liked it. I did. I repeat myself when under stress. I repeat myself when under stress. I repeat myself when under stress. I repeat myself when under stress. I repeat.. The more I look at it, the more I like it. I do think it's good. The fact is.. no matter how closely I study it, no matter how I take it apart, no matter how I break it down, It remains consistant. I wish you were here to see it. I like it. Thela Hun Ginjeet ----- --- ------- Well, first of all, I couldn't even see his face. I couldn't see his face. He was holding a gun in his hand. Umm... I was thinking... This is a dangerous place.. This is a dangerous place.. I said, "I'm nervous as hell from this stuff. I thought those guys were going to kill me for sure. They ganged up on me like that. I couldn't believe it. Look, I'm still shakin'. Weird. There out in the streets like that. It's a dangerous place. It's a dangerous place." So, suddenly, these two guys appear in front of me. They stopped. Real aggressive. Start at me, you know. "What's that?" "What's that on that tape?" What do you got there?" I said, "huh?" They said, "What are you talking into that for?" I said, "It's just a tape, you know" "Well play it for me" I said "oh, no" I put it off as long as I could. And finally they turned it on, you know They grabbed it from me. Took it away from me. Turned it on. And it said, "He held a gun in his hand. This is a dangerous place." They said, "What dangerous place?" "What gun?" "You're a policeman!" And the deeper I talked, the worse I got into it. I talked, I told him... I said, "Look man, I'm not talkin'...." It went on forever. Anyway, I finally unbuttoned my shirt, and said, "look, look... I'm in this band, you know, I'm in this band you know, and we're makin' a recording, you know. It's about New York City, it's about crime in the streets..." The explanation was going nowhere, but, Finally, they just kinda let me go, I don't know why. So I walk around the corner, and I'm like shakin' like a leaf, and I thought, "This is a dangerous place" Who should appear, but two policeman. Your request matches 1 albums and 3 songs. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Directory: /u9/ftp/pub/music/lyrics/files/king.crimson File: in.the.wake.of.poseidon KING CRIMSON IN THE WAKE OF POSEIDON Side One PEACE - A BEGINNING 0:48 I am the ocean Lit by the flame I am the mountain Peace is my name I am the river Touched by the wind I am the story I never end. Fripp, Sinfield PICTURES OF A SITY 7:55 including 42nd at Treadmill Concrete cold face cased in steel Stark sharp glass-eyed crack and peel Bright light scream beam brake and squeal Red white green white neon wheel. Dream flesh love chase perfumed skin Greased hand teeth hide tinseled sin Spice ice dance chance sickly grin Pasteboard time slot sweat and spin. Blind stick blind drunk cannot see Mouth dry tongue tied cannot speak Concrete dream flesh broken shell Lost soul lost trace lost in hell. Fripp, Sinfield CADENCE AND CASCADE* 4:30 Cadence and Cascade Kept a man named Jade; Cool in the shade While his audience played. Purred, whispered, "Spend us too: We only serve for you". Sliding mystified On the wine of the tide Stared pale-eyed As his veil fell aside. Sad paper courtesan They found him just a man. Caravan hotel Where the sequin spell fell Custom of the game. Cadence oiled in love Licked his velvet gloved hand Cascade kissed his name. Sad paper courtesan They knew him just a man. Fripp, Sinfield IN THE WAKE OF POSEIDON 7:47 including Libra's Theme Plato's spawn cold ivyed eyes Snare truth in bone and globe. Harlequins coin pointless games Sneer jokes in parrot's robe. Two women weep, Dame Scarlet Screen Sheds sudden theatre rain, Whilst dark in dream the Midnight Queen Knows every human pain. In air, fire, earth and water World on the scales. Air, fire, earth and water Balance of change World on the scales On the scales. Bishop's kings spin judgement's blade Scratch "Faith" on nameless graves. Harvest hags Hoard ash and sand Rack rope and chain for slaves Who fireside fear fermented words Then rear to spoil the feast; Whilst in the aisle the mad man smiles To him it matters least. Heroes hands drain stones for blood To whet the scaling knife. Magi blind with visions light Net death in dread of life. Their children kneel in Jesus till They learn the price of nail; Whilst all around our mother earth Waits balanced on the scales. Fripp, Sinfield Side Two PEACE - A THEME 0:45 Fripp CAT FOOD 4:49 Lady Supermarket with an apple in her basket Knocks in the manager's door; Grooning to the muzak from a speaker in shoe rack Lays out her goods on the floor; Everything she's chosen is conveniently frozen. "Eat it and come back for more!" Lady Window Shopper with a new one in the hopper Whips up a chemical brew; Croaking to a neighbour while she polishes a sabre Knows how to flavour a stew. Never need to worry with a tin of 'Hurri Curri': "Poisoned especially for you!" No use to complain If you're caught out in the rain; Your mother's quite insane. Cat food cat food cat food again. Lady Yellow Stamper with a fillet in a hamper Dying to finish the course; Goodies for the table with a fable on the label Drowning in miracle sauce. Don't think I am that rude if I tell you that it's cat food, "Not even fit for a horse!" Fripp, Sinfield, McDonald THE DEVIL'S TRIANGLE 11:24 Fripp MERDAY MORN Fripp, McDonald HAND OF SCEIRON Fripp GARDEN OF WORM Fripp PEACE - AN END 1:50 Peace is a word Of the sea and the wind. Peace is a bird who sings As you smile. Peace is the love Of a foe as a friend; Peace is the love you bring To a child Searching for me You look everywhere, Except beside you. Searching for you You look everywhere, But not inside you. Peace is a stream >From the heart of a man; Peace is a man, whose breadth Is the dawn. Peace is a dawn On a day without end; Peace is the end, like death Of the war. Fripp, Sinfield Robert Fripp /Guitar, Mellotron & Devices Greg Lake /Vocals Michael Giles /Drums Peter Giles /Bass Keith Tippet /Piano Mel Collins /Saxes & Flute Gordon Haskell /Vocal* Peter Sinfield /Words Engineer Robin Thompson Assistant Engineers Jeff & Tony Studio Wessex Sound, London Mel Collins of "Circus" appears by courtesy of Transatlantic Records Gordon Haskell appears by courtesly of C.B.S.Records Produced and directed by Robert Fripp & Peter Sinfield for E.G.Records Ltd. All songs Copyright (c) E.G.Music Ltd. 1970 (p) 1970 E.G.RECORDS LTD. -- Pasha A. Hodakov DEMOS, Moscow, Russia InterNET: pasha@hq.demos.su Voice: +7 095 2312129 Fax: +7 095 2335016 ----------------------------------------------------------------- Directory: /u9/ftp/pub/music/lyrics/files/king.crimson File: larks.tongues Author: King Crimson Album title: Larks' Tongues in Aspic Larks' Tongues in Aspic, Part One (Instrumental) Book of Saturday ---- -- -------- If I only could deceive you Forgetting the game Every time I try to leave you You laugh just the same 'Cause my wheels never touch the road And the jumble of lies we told Just returns to my back to weigh me down... We lay cards upon the table The backs of our hands And I swear I like your people The boys in the band Reminiscences gone astray Coming back to enjoy the fray In a tangle of night and daylight sounds... All completeness in the morning Asleep on your side I'll be waking up the crewmen Banana-boat ride She responds like a limousine Brought alive on the silent screen To the shuddering breath of yesterday... There's the succour of the needy Incredible scenes I'll believe you in the future Your life and death dreams As the cavalry of despair Takes a stand in the lady's hair For the favour of making sweet sixteen... You make my life and times A book of bluesy Saturdays And I have to chose... Exiles ------ Now...in this faraway land Strange...that the palms of my hands Should be damp with expectancy Spring...and the air's turning mild City lights...and the glimpse of a child Of the alleyway infantry Friends...do they know what I mean Rain...and the gathering green Of an afternoon out-of-town But Lord I had to go My trail was laid too slow behind me To face the call of fame Or make a drunkard's name for me Though now this other life Has brought a different understanding And from these endless days Shall come a broader sympathy And though I count the hours To be alone's no injury... My home...was a place near the sand Cliffs...and a military band Blew and air of normality Easy Money ---- ----- Your admirers on the street Gotta hoot and stamp their feet In the heat from your physique As you twinkle by in moccasin sneakers And I thought my heart would break When you doubled up at the stake With your fingers all a-shake You could never tell a winner from a snake but you always make money Easy money With your figure and your face Strutting out at every race Throw a glass around the place Show the colour of your crimson suspenders We would take the money home Sit around the family throne My old dog could chew his bone For two weeks we could appease the Almighty Easy money Got no truck with the la-di-da Keep my bread in an old fruit jar Drive you out in a motor-car Getting fat on your lucky star just making Easy money. The Talking Drum (Instrumental) Larks' Tongues in Aspic, Part Two (Instrumental) Your request matches 1 albums and 6 songs. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Directory: /u9/ftp/pub/music/lyrics/files/king.crimson File: lizard Author: King Crimson Album title: Lizard Cirkus (including Entry of the Chameleons) ------ Night: her sable dome scattered with diamonds, Fused my dust from a light year, Squeezed me to her breast, sowed me with carbon, Strung my warp across time Gave me each a horse, sunrise and graveyard, Told me only I was her; Bid me face the east closed me in questions Built the sky for my dawn . . . Cleaned my feet of mud, followed the empty Zebra ride to the Cirkus, Past a painted cage, spoke to the paybox Glove which wrote on my tongue- Pushed me down a slide to the arena, Megaphonium fanfare. In his cloak of words strode the ringmaster Bid me join the parade . . . "Worship!" cried the clown, "I am a T.I. Making bandsmen go clockwork, See the slinky seal Cirkus policeman; Bareback ladies have fish." Strongmen by his feet, plate-spinning statesman, Acrobatically juggling- Bids his tamers go quiet the tumblers Lest the mirror stop turning . . . Elephants forgot, force-fed on stale chalk, Ate the floors of their cages. Strongmen lost their hair, paybox collapsed and Lions sharpened their teeth. Gloves raced round the ring, stallions stampeded Pandemonium seesaw . . . I ran for the door, ringmasters shouted, "All the fun of the Cirkus!" Indoor Games ------ ----- Indoor fireworks amuse your kitchen staff Dusting plastic garlic plants They snigger in the draught When you ride through the parlour Wearing nothing but your armour- Playing Indoor Games. One string puppet shows amuse Your sycophantic friends Who cheer your rancid recipes In fear they might offend, Whilst you loaf on your sofa Sporting falsies and a toga- Playing Indoor Games, Indoor Games. Your mean teetotum spins arouse your seventh wife Who pats her sixty little skins And reinsures your life, Whilst you sulk in your sauna 'Cos you lost your jigsaw corner- Playing Indoor Games, Indoor Games. Each afternoon you train baboons to sing Or swim in purple perspex water wings. Come Saturday jump hopper, chelsea brigade, High bender-trender it's all Indoor Games. No ball bagatelle incites Your children to conspire, They slide across your frying pan And fertilize your fire; Still you and Jones go madder Broken bones-broken ladder- Hey Ho . . . Happy Family ----- ------ Happy family, one hand clap, four went by and none come back. Brother Judas, ash and sack, swallowed aphrodisiac. Rufus, Silas, Jonah too sang, "We'll blow our own canoes," Poked a finger in the zoo, punctured all the ballyhoo Whipped the world and beat the clock, wound up with their share of stock. Silver Rolls from golden rock, shaken by a knock, knock, knock. Happy family, wave that grin, what goes round must surely spin; Cheesecake, mousetrap, Grip-Pipe-Thynne cried out, "We're not Rin Tin Tin." Uncle Rufus grew his nose, threw away his circus clothes Cousin Silas grew a beard, drew another flask of weird Nasty Jonah grew a wife, Judas drew his pruning knife. Happy family one hand clap, four went on but none came back Happy family, pale applause, each to his revolving doors. Silas searching, Rufus neat, Jonah caustic, Jude so sweet. Let their sergeant mirror spin if we lose the barbers win; Happy family one hand clap, four went on but none came back Lady of the Dancing Water ---- -- --- ------- ----- Grass in your hair stretched like a lion in the sun Restlessly turned moistened your mouth with your tongue. Pouring my wine in your eyes caged mine glowing Touching your face my fingers strayed knowing. I called you lady of the dancing water. Blown autumn leaves shed to the fire where you laid me Burn slow to ash just as my days now seem to be I feel you still always your eyes glowing Remembered hours salt, earth and flowers flowing Farewell my lady of the dancing water. Lizard ------ a. Prince Rupert Awakes Farewell the temple master's bells His kiosk and his black worm seed Courtship solely of his word With Eden guaranteed. For now Prince Rupert's tears of glass Make saffron sabbath eyelids bleed Scar the sacred tablet of wax On which the Lizards feed. Wake your reason's hollow vote Wear your blizzard season coat Burn a bridge and burn a boat Stake a Lizard by the throat. Go Polonius or kneel The reapers name their harvest dawn All your tarnished devil's spoons Will rust beneath our corn. Now bears Prince Rupert's garden roam Across his rain tree shaded lawn Lizard bones become the clay- And there a Swan is born Wake your reasons' hollow vote Wear your blizzard season coat Burn a bridge and burn a boat Stake a Lizard by the throat. Gone soon Piepowder's moss-weed court Round which upholstered Lizards sold Visions to their leaden flock Of rainbows' ends and gold. Now tales Prince Rupert's peacock brings Of walls and trumpets thousand fold Prophets chained for burning masks And reels of dream unrolled . . . b. Bolero - the Peacock's Tale (Instrumental) c. The Battle of Glass Tears Night enfolds her cloak of holes Around the river meadow. Old moon-light stalks by broken ploughs Hides spokeless wheels in shadow. Sentries lean on thorn wood spears Blow on their hands, stare eastwards. Burnt with dream and taut with fear Dawn's misty shawl upon them. Three hills apart great armies stir Spit oat and curse as day breaks. Forming lines of horse and steel By even yards march forward. d. Big Top (Instrumental) Your request matches 1 albums and 5 songs. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Directory: /u9/ftp/pub/music/lyrics/files/king.crimson File: starless.bible.black Author: King Crimson Album title: Starless and Bible Black The Great Deceiver ------------------ Health-food faggot with a bartered bride Likes to comb his hair with a dipper ride Once had a friend with a cloven foot Once he called the tune in a chequered quit Great Deceiver In the door on the floor in a paper bag There's a shoe-shine boy with a gin-shop slag She raised him up and she called him son And she canonised the ground that he walked upon Great Deceiver Cigarettes, ice cream, figurines of the Virgin Mary Cigarettes, ice cream, figurines of the Virgin Mary Cigarettes, ice cream, cadillacs blue jeans In the night he's a star in the Milky Way He's a man of the world by the light of day A golden smile and a proposition And the breath of God smells of sweet sedition Great Deceiver Sing hymns make love get high fall dead He'll bring his perfume to your bed He'll charm your life 'til the cold winds blow Then he'll sell your dreams to a picture show Cigarettes, ice cream, figurines of the Virgin Mary Cigarettes, ice cream, figurines of the Virgin Mary Cadillacs, blue jeans, dixieland playing on the ferry Cadillacs, blues jeans, drop a glass full of antique sherry Lament ------ I guess I tried to show you how I'd take the crowd with my guitar And business men would clap their hands And clip another fat cigar And publishers would spread the news And print my music far and wide And all the kids who played the blues Would learn my licks with a bottle neck slide But now it seems the bubble's burst Although you know there was a time When love songs gathered in my head With poetry in every line And strong men strove to hold the doors While with my friends I passed the age When people stomped on dirty floors Before I trod the rock'n'roll stage I'll thank the man who's on the 'phone And if he has the time to spend The problem I'll explain once more And indicate a sum to lend That ten percent is now a joke Maybe thirty, even thirty-five I'll say my daddy's had a stroke He'd have one now, if he only was alive I like the way you look at me You're laughing too down there inside I took my chance and you took yours You crewed my ship, we missed the tide I like the way the music goes There's a few good guys who can play it right I like the way it moves my toes Just say when you want to go and dance all night... The Night Watch --------------- Shine, shine, the light of good works shine The watch before the city gates depicted in their prime That golden light all grimy now Three hundred years have passed The worthy Captain and his squad of troopers standing fast The artist knew their faces well The husbands of his lady friends His creditors and councillors In armour bright, the merchant men Official moments of the guild In poses keen from bygone days The city fathers frozen there Upon the canvas dark with age The smell of paint, a flask of wine And turn those faces all to me The blunderbuss and halberd-shaft And Dutch respectability They make their entrance one by one Defenders of that way of life The redbrick home, the bourgeoisie Guitar lessons for the wife So many years we suffered here Our country racked with Spanish wars Now comes a chance to find ourselves And quiet reigns behind our doors We think about posterity again And so the pride of little men The burghers good and true Still living through the painter's hand Request you all to understand Your request matches 1 albums and 3 songs. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Directory: /u9/ftp/pub/music/lyrics/files/king.crimson File: three.perfect.pair Author: King Crimson Album title: Three of a Perfect Pair Three of a Perfect Pair she is susceptible he is impossible they have their cross to share three of a perfect pair... he has his contradicting views she has her cyclothymic moods they make a study in despair three of a perfect pair... one, one too many schizophrenic tendencies keeps it complicated keeps it agggravated and full of this hopelessness what a perfect mess... Model Man look at the signs look at the symptoms look at the slight calm before the storm I feel the silence I feel the signals I feel the strain tension in my head well, what more can be said... not a model man not a saviour or a saint imperfect in a word make no mistake but I give you everything I have take me as I am... Sleepless in the dream I fall into the sleepless sea with a swell of panic and pain my veins are aching for the distant reef in the crush of emotional waves... alright, get a hold of yourself an' don't fight it, it's over your head it's alright, the rumble in your ears it's alright to feel a little fear an' don't fight it, it's over your head it's alright, you wake up in your bed... silhouettes like shivering ancient feelings they cover my foreign floors and walls submarines are lurking in my foggy ceiling they keep me sleepless at night... hey, can you picture the sight the figures on the beach in the searing night and the roaring hurt of my silent fight... can you pull me out of this sleepless night can you pull me out?... Man with an Open Heart she wouldn't need to be a bird without a wing or be a servant to a telephone ring she could be sleeping in the comfort of another bed it wouldn't matter to a man with an open heart here comes right now... she could be moody, dramatic as a play or be evasive as a shadow in the shade could be irregular and singing in her underwear... it wouldn't matter to a man with an open heart here comes right now... her wild and wise womanly introspectiveness her faults and files of foolishness... wouldn't matter to a man with an open heart... here comes right now... Nuages (That Which Passes, Passes Like Clouds) (instrumental) Industry (instrumental) Dig Me it's here I sit and rust amid this ruin and rancor like tire irons toothy grills and car parts before me...the acid rain floods my floorboard, burns my pores, and rots my upholstry.. once I was worshipped, polished magnificently, now I lay in decay by the dirty angry bay... I'm ready to leave I wanna get out of here I'm ready to ride away I don't want to die in here I'm ready to ride mmy skin is metallic now, no longer an elegant powder blue... my body unhinged and sleeping in the jungle of motor block manifolds and metal relics... what was deluxe becomes debris, I never questioned loyalty, but this dead end demolishes the dream of an open highway... dig me...but don't...bury me No Warning (instrumental) Larks' Tongues in Aspic Part III (instrumental) Your request matches 1 albums and 9 songs. -- -Dave datta@cs.uwp.edu. Please note the new address!!!! The music FTP archives have been moved!!! the new address is cs.uwp.edu (131.210.1.4) KING CRIMSON I "THE COURT OF THE CRIMSON KING" SIDE ONE 1.21ST CENTURY SCHIZOID MAN including MIRRORS(6.52) (Fripp-McDonald-Lake-Giles- Sinfield) Cat's foot iron claw Neuro-surgeons scream for more At paranoia's poison door Twenty first century schizoid man. Blood rack barbed wire Politician's funeral pyre Innocents raped with napalm fire Twenty first century schizoid man. Death seed blind man's greed Poets' starving children bleed Nothing he's got he really needs Twenty first century schizoid man. 2.I TALK TO THE WIND(5.40) (McDonald-Sinfield) Said the straight man to the late man Where have you been I've been here and I've been there And I've been in between. I talk to the wind My words are all carried away I talk to the wind The wind does not hear The wind cannot hear. I'm on the outside looking inside What do I see Much confussion, disillusion All around me. You don't possess me Don't impress me Just upset my mind Can't instruct me or conduct me Just use up my time. I talk to the wind My words are all carried away I talk to the wind The wind does not hear The wind cannot hear. 3.EPITAPH including MARCH FOR NO REASON and TOMORROW AND TOMORROW(8.30) (Fripp-McDonald-Lake-Giles- Sinfield) 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. 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 to 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. SIDE TWO 1.MOONCHILD including THE DREAM and THE ILLUSION(12.09) (Fripp-McDonald-Lake-Giles- Sinfield) Call her moonchild Dancing in the shallows of a river Lonely moonchild Dreaming in the shadow of the willow. Talking to the trees of the cobweb strange Slepping on the steps of a fountain Waiving silver wands to the night-bird song Waiting for the sun on the mountain. She's a moonchild Gathering the flowers in a garden Lovely moonchild Drifting on the echoes of the hours. Sailing on the wind in a milk white gown Dropping circle stones on a sun dial Playing hide and seek with the ghosts of down Waiting for a smile from a sun child. 2.THE COURT OF THE CRIMSON KING including THE RETURN OF THE FIRE WITCH and THE DANCE OF THE PUPPETS(8.48) (McDonald-Sinfield) The rusted chains of prison moons Are shattered by the sun. I walk a road, horizons change The tournament's begun. The purple piper playes 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 unsufficient schemes. The black queen chants the funeral match 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 grey mornings windows cry The wise men share a joke I run to grasp divining sings To satisfy the hoax. The yellow jester does not play But gently pulls the strings And smiles as the puppets dance In the court of the crimson king. KING CRIMSON I "THE COURT OF THE CRIMSON KING" You don't possess me SIDE TWO 2.THE COURT OF THE CRIMSON Don't impress me KING including THE RETURN OF SIDE ONE Just upset my mind 1.MOONCHILD THE FIRE WITCH and THE Can't instruct me or conduct me including THE DREAM DANCE OF THE PUPPETS(8.48) 1.21ST CENTURY SCHIZOID MAN Just use up my time. and THE ILLUSION(12.09) (McDonald-Sinfield) including MIRRORS(6.52) (Fripp-McDonald-Lake-Giles- (Fripp-McDonald-Lake-Giles- I talk to the wind Sinfield) The rusted chains of prison moons Sinfield) My words are all carried away Are shattered by the sun. I talk to the wind Call her moonchild I walk a road, horizons change Cat's foot iron claw The wind does not hear Dancing in the shallows of a river The tournament's begun. Neuro-surgeons scream for more The wind cannot hear. Lonely moonchild The purple piper playes his tune At paranoia's poison door Dreaming in the shadow The choir softly sing: Twenty first century schizoid man. 3.EPITAPH of the willow. Three lullabies in an ancient tongue including MARCH FOR NO For the court of the crimson king. Blood rack barbed wire REASON and TOMORROW AND Talking to the trees of the Politician's funeral pyre TOMORROW(8.30) cobweb strange The keeper of the city keys Innocents raped with napalm fire (Fripp-McDonald-Lake-Giles- Slepping on the steps of a fountain Put shutters on the dreams. Twenty first century schizoid man. Sinfield) Waiving silver wands to the I wait outside the pilgrim's door night-bird song With unsufficient schemes. Death seed blind man's greed The wall on which the prophets wrote Waiting for the sun on the mountain. The black queen chants Poets' starving children bleed Is cracking at the seams. the funeral match Nothing he's got he really needs Upon the instruments of death She's a moonchild The cracked brass bells will ring: Twenty first century schizoid man. The sunlight brightly gleams. Gathering the flowers in a garden To summon back the fire witch When every man is torn apart Lovely moonchild To the court of the crimson king. 2.I TALK TO THE WIND(5.40) With nightmares and with dreams Drifting on the echoes of the hours. (McDonald-Sinfield) Will no one lay the laurel wreath The gardener plants an evergreen As silence drowns the screams. Sailing on the wind Whilst trampling on a flower Said the straight man to the late man in a milk white gown I chase the wind of a prism ship Where have you been Between the iron gates of fate, Dropping circle stones on a sun dial To taste the sweet and sour. I've been here and I've been there The seeds of time were sown. Playing hide and seek The pattern juggler lifts his hand: And I've been in between. And watered by the deeds of those with the ghosts of down The orchestra begin Who know and who are known. Waiting for a smile from a sun child. As slowly turns the grinding wheel I talk to the wind Knowledge is a deadly friend In the court of the crimson king. My words are all carried away When no one sets to rules. I talk to the wind The fate of all mankind I see On soft grey mornings windows cry The wind does not hear Is in the hands of fools. The wise men share a joke The wind cannot hear. I run to grasp divining sings Confusion will be my epitaph To satisfy the hoax. I'm on the outside looking inside As I crawl a cracked and broken path The yellow jester does not play What do I see If we make it we can all sit back But gently pulls the strings Much confussion, disillusion and laugh. And smiles as the puppets dance All around me. But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying, In the court of the crimson king. Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying. "K I N G C R I M S O N" "S T A R L E S S A N D B I B L E B L A C K" THE NIGHT WATCH Shine, shine, the light of good works shine The watch before the city gates depicted in their prime That golden light all grimy now Three hundred years have passed The worthy Captain and his squad of troopers standing fast. The artist knew their faces well The husbands of his lady friends His creditors and councilors In armour bright, the merchant men Official moments of the guild In poses keen from bygone days The city fathers frozen there Upon with canvas dark with age The smell of paint, a flask of wine And turn those faces all to me The blunderbuss and halbert-shaft And Dutch respectability. They make their entrance one by one Defenders of that way of life The redbrick home, the bourgeoisie Guitar lessons for the wife. So many years we suffered here Our country racked with Spanish wars Now comes a chance to find ourselves And quiet reigns behind our doors We think about posterity again. And so the pride of little men The burghers good and true Still living through the painter's hands Request you all to understand. LAMENT I guess I tried to show you how I'd take the crowd with my guitar And business men would clap their hands And clip another fat cigar And publishers would spread the news And print my music far and wide And all the kids who played the blues Would learn my licks with a bottle neck slide. But now it seems to the bubble's burst Although you know there was a time When love gathered in my head With poetry in every line And strong men strove to hold the doors While with my friends I passed that age When people stomped on dirty floors Before I trod the rock'n'roll stage. I'll thank the man who's on the 'phone And if he has the time to spend The problem I'll explain once more And indicate a sum to lend That ten percent is now a joke Maybe thirty, even thirty-five I'll say my daddy's had a stroke He'd have one now, if he only was alive. I like the way you look at me You're laughing too down there inside I took my chance and you took yours You crewed my ship, we missed the tide I like the way the music goes There's a few good guys who can play it right I like the way it moves my toes Just say when you want to go and dance all night... THE GREAT DECEIVER Health-food faggot with a bartered bride Likes to comb his hair with a dipper ride Once had a friend with a cloven foot Once he called the tune in a chequered suit. Great Deceiver In the door on the floor in a paper bag There's a shoe-shine boy with a gin-shop slag She raised him up and she called him son And she canonised the ground that he walked upon. Great Deceiver Cigarettes, ice cream, figurines of the Virgin Mary Cigarettes, ice cream, figurines of the Virgin Mary Cigarettes. ice cream, cadillacs, blue jeans. In the night he's a star in the Milky Way He's a man of the world by the light of day A golden smile and a proposition And the breath of God smells of sweet sedition. Great Deceiver Sing hymns make love get high fall dead He'll bring his perfume to your bed He'll charm your life 'til the cold winds blow Then he'll sell your dreams to a picture show. Cigarettes, ice cream, figurines of the Virgin Mary Cadillacs, blue jeans, dixieland playing on the ferry Cadillacs, blue jeans, drop a glass full of antique sherry. "K I N G C R I M S O N" "L A R K' S T O N G U E S I N A S P I C" BOOK OF SATURDAY If I only could deceive you Forgetting the game Every time I try to leave you You laugh just the same. 'Cause my wheels never touch the road And the jumble of lies we told Just returns to my back to weigh me down. We lay cards upon the table The backs of our hands And I swear I like your people The boys in the band. Reminiscences gone astray Coming back to enjoy the fray In a tangle of night and daylight sounds. All completeness in the morning Asleep on your side I'll be waking up the crewmen Banna-boat ride. She responds like a limousine Brought alive in the silent screen To the shuddering breath of yesterday. There's a succour of the needy Incredible scenes I'll believe you in the future Your life and death dreams As the cavalry of despair Takes a stand in the lady's hair For the favour of making sweet sixteen. You make my life and times A book of bluesy Saturday And I have to choose.... EXILES Now... In this faraway land Strange... That the palms of my hands Should be damp with expectancy. Spring... and the air's turning mild City lights... and the glimpse of a child Of the alleyway infantry. Friends... do they know what I mean Rain... and the gathering green Of an afternoon out-of town. But Lord I had to go My trail was laid too slow behind me To face the call of fame or make a drunkard's name for me Though now this other life Has brought a different understanding And from these endless days Shall came a broader sympathy And though I count the huns To be Alane's no injury... My Home... was a place near the sand Cliffs... and a military band Blew an air of normality. EASY MONEY Your admirers at the street Gotta hoot and stamp their feet In the heat of your physique As you twinkle by in moccasin sneakers. And I thought my heart would break When you doubled up the stake With your fingers all ashake You could never tell a winner from a snake. But you always make easy money. With your figure and your face Strutting out of every race throw a glass around the place Show the colour of your crimson suspenders. We would take the money home Sit around the family throne My old dog could chew his bone For two weeks we could appeal the Almighty. Easy money Got no track with the la-di-da Keep my bread in an old Fruit Tar Drive you out in a motor car Getting fat on your lucky star Just making easy money. KING CRIMSON LIZARD SIDE ONE CIRKUS (6:28) including Entry Of The Chameleons Night: her sable dome scattered with diamonds, Fused my dust from a light year, Squeezed me to her breast, sowed me with carbon, Strung my warp across time. Gave me each horse, sunrise and graveyard, Told me only I was her; Bid ne face the east closed me in questions Built the sky for my dawn ... Cleaned my feet of mud, followed the empty Zebra ride to the Cirkus, Past a painted cage, spoke to the paybox Glove which wrote on my tonque - Pushed me down a slide to the arena, Megaphonium fanfare In his cloak of words strode the ringmaster Bid me join the parade ... "Worship!" - cried the clown. "I'm a T.V. Making bandsmen go clockwork, See the slinky seal Cirkus policeman, Bareback ladies have fish." Strongmen by his feet, plate-spinning statesman, Accrobatically juggling - Bids his tamers go quiet the tumblers Lest the mirror stop turning ... Elephants forgot, force-fed on stale chalk, Ate the floors of their cages. Strongmen lost their hair, paybox collapsed and Lions sharpened their teeth. Gloves raced round the ring, stallions stampeded Pandemonium seesaw ... I ran for the door, ringmaster shouted, "All the fun of the Cirkus!" INDOOR GAMES (5:38) Indoor fireworks amuse your kitchen staff Dusting plastic garlic plants They snigger in the draught When you ride throw the parlour Wearing nothing but your armour - Playing Indoor Games. One string puppet shows amuse Your sycophantic friends Who cheer your rancid recipes In fear they might offend, Whilst you loaf on your sofa Sporting falsies and a toga - Playing Indoor Games, Indoor Games. Your mean teetotum spins arouse your seventh wife Who pats her sixty little skins And reinsures your life, Whilst you sulk in your sauna 'Cos you lost your jig-saw corner - Playing Indoor Games, Indoor Games. Each afternoon you train baboons to sing Or swim in purple perspex water wings. Come Saturday jump chopper, chelsea brigade. High bender-trender it's all Indoor Games. No ball bagatelle incites Your children to corspire. They slide across your frying pan And fertilise your fire; Still you and Jones go madder Broken bones - broken ladder - Hey Ho ... HAPPY FAMILY (4:15) Happy family, one hand clap, four went by and none came back. Brother Judas, ash and sack, swallowed aphrodiciac Rufus, Silas, Jonah too sang, "We'll blow our own canoes," Poked a finger in the zoo, punctured all the ballyhoo. Whipped the world and beat the clock, wound up with their share of stock. Silver Rolls from golden rock, shaken by a knock, knock, knock. Happy family, wave that grin, what goes round must surely spin; Cheescake, mousetrap, Grip-Pipe-Thynne cried out, "We're not Rin-Tin-Tin." Uncle Rufus grew his nose, threw away his cirkus clothes Cousin Silas grew a beard, drew another flask of weird Nasty Jonah grew a wife, Judas grew his pruning knife. Happy family, one hand clap, four went on but none came back. Happy family, pale applause, each to his revolving doors. Silas searching, Rufus neat, Jonah caustic, Jude so sweet. Let their sergeant mirror spin if we lose the barbers win; Happy family, one hand clap, four went on but none came back. LADY OF THE DANCING WATER (2:43) Grass in your hair stretched like a lion in the sun Restlessly turned moistened your mouth with your tonque. Pouring my wine your eyes caged mine glowing Touching your face my finger strayed knowing I called you lady of the dancing water. Blown autumn leaves shed to the fire where you laid me. Burn slow to ash just as my days now seem to be. I feel you still always your eyes glowing Remembered hours salt, earth and flowers flowing. Farewell my lady of the dancing water. SIDE TWO PRINCE RUPERT AWAKES (4:34) Farewell the temple master's bells His kiosk and his black wormseed Courtship solely of his word With Eden guaranteed. For now Prince Rupert's tears of glass Make saffron sabbath eyelids bleed Scar the sacred tablet wax On which the Lizards feed. Wake your reasons' hollow vote Wear your blizzard season coat Burn a bridge and burn a boat Stake a Lizard by the throat Go Polonius or kneel The reapers name their harvest dawn All your tarnished devil's spoons Will rust beneath our corn. Now bears Prince Rupert's garden roam Across his rain tree shaded lawn Lizard bones become the clay - And there a Swan is born Wake your reasons' hollow vote Wear your blizzard season coat Burn a bridge and burn a boat Stake a Lizard by the throat Gone soon Piepowder's moss-weed court Round which upholstered Lizards sold Visions to their leaden flock Of rainbows' ends and gold New tales Prince Ruppert's peacock brings Of walls and trumpets thousand fold Prophets chained for burning masks And reels of dream unrolled ... BOLERO - THE PEACOCK'S TALE (6:30) THE BATLE OF GLASS TEARS (10:55) including: Dawn Song Last Skirmish Prince Puppert's Lament Night enfolds her cloak of holes Around the river meadow. Old moon-light stalks by brocken ploughs Hides spokeless wheels in shadows. Sentries lean on thorn wood spears Blow on their hands, stare eastwards. Burnt with dream and taut with fear Dawn's misty shawl upon them. Three hills apart great armies stir Spit oath and curse as day breaks Forming lines of horse and steel By even yards march forward. BIG TOP (1:05) PERSONEL Robert Fripp Guitar, Mellotron, Electric Keyboards & Devices Melt Collins Flute & Saxes Gordon Haskell Bass Guitar & Vocals Andy McCulloch Drums Peter Sinfield Words & Pictures with Robin Miller Oboe & Cor Anglais Mark Charing Cornet Nick Evans Trombone Keith Tippet Piano & Electric Piano Jon Anderson of YES Vocals on "Prince Rupert Awakes" Engeneer Robin Thompson Tapes Geoff Workeman Studio Wessex Sound, London Sleeve Conception Peter Sinfield Outside Painting Gini Barris Inside Marbling Koraz Wellpapers Typography C.C.S. Written & Produced by Robert Fripp & Peter Sinfield for E.G.Records Ltd. 1970 KING CRIMSON IN THE WAKE OF POSEIDON Side One PEACE - A BEGINNING 0:48 I am the ocean Lit by the flame I am the mountain Peace is my name I am the river Touched by the wind I am the story I never end. Fripp, Sinfield PICTURES OF A CITY 7:55 including 42nd at Treadmill Concrete cold face cased in steel Stark sharp glass-eyed crack and peel Bright light scream beam brake and squeal Red white green white neon wheel. Dream flesh love chase perfumed skin Greased hand teeth hide tinseled sin Spice ice dance chance sickly grin Pasteboard time slot sweat and spin. Blind stick blind drunk cannot see Mouth dry tongue tied cannot speak Concrete dream flesh broken shell Lost soul lost trace lost in hell. Fripp, Sinfield CADENCE AND CASCADE* 4:30 Cadence and Cascade Kept a man named Jade; Cool in the shade While his audience played. Purred, whispered, "Spend us too: We only serve for you". Sliding mystified On the wine of the tide Stared pale-eyed As his veil fell aside. Sad paper courtesan They found him just a man. Caravan hotel Where the sequin spell fell Custom of the game. Cadence oiled in love Licked his velvet gloved hand Cascade kissed his name. Sad paper courtesan They knew him just a man. Fripp, Sinfield IN THE WAKE OF POSEIDON 7:47 including Libra's Theme Plato's spawn cold ivyed eyes Snare truth in bone and globe. Harlequins coin pointless games Sneer jokes in parrot's robe. Two women weep, Dame Scarlet Screen Sheds sudden theatre rain, Whilst dark in dream the Midnight Queen Knows every human pain. In air, fire, earth and water World on the scales. Air, fire, earth and water Balance of change World on the scales On the scales. Bishop's kings spin judgement's blade Scratch "Faith" on nameless graves. Harvest hags Hoard ash and sand Rack rope and chain for slaves Who fireside fear fermented words Then rear to spoil the feast; Whilst in the aisle the mad man smiles To him it matters least. Heroes hands drain stones for blood To whet the scaling knife. Magi blind with visions light Net death in dread of life. Their children kneel in Jesus till They learn the price of nail; Whilst all around our mother earth Waits balanced on the scales. Fripp, Sinfield Side Two PEACE - A THEME 0:45 Fripp CAT FOOD 4:49 Lady Supermarket with an apple in her basket Knocks in the manager's door; Grooning to the muzak from a speaker in shoe rack Lays out her goods on the floor; Everything she's chosen is conveniently frozen. "Eat it and come back for more!" Lady Window Shopper with a new one in the hopper Whips up a chemical brew; Croaking to a neighbour while she polishes a sabre Knows how to flavour a stew. Never need to worry with a tin of 'Hurri Curri': "Poisoned especially for you!" No use to complain If you're caught out in the rain; Your mother's quite insane. Cat food cat food cat food again. Lady Yellow Stamper with a fillet in a hamper Dying to finish the course; Goodies for the table with a fable on the label Drowning in miracle sauce. Don't think I am that rude if I tell you that it's cat food, "Not even fit for a horse!" Fripp, Sinfield, McDonald THE DEVIL'S TRIANGLE 11:24 Fripp MERDAY MORN Fripp, McDonald HAND OF SCEIRON Fripp GARDEN OF WORM Fripp PEACE - AN END 1:50 Peace is a word Of the sea and the wind. Peace is a bird who sings As you smile. Peace is the love Of a foe as a friend; Peace is the love you bring To a child Searching for me You look everywhere, Except beside you. Searching for you You look everywhere, But not inside you. Peace is a stream From the heart of a man; Peace is a man, whose breadth Is the dawn. Peace is a dawn On a day without end; Peace is the end, like death Of the war. Fripp, Sinfield Robert Fripp /Guitar, Mellotron & Devices Greg Lake /Vocals Michael Giles /Drums Peter Giles /Bass Keith Tippet /Piano Mel Collins /Saxes & Flute Gordon Haskell /Vocal* Peter Sinfield /Words Engineer Robin Thompson Assistant Engineers Jeff & Tony Studio Wessex Sound, London Mel Collins of "Circus" appears by courtesy of Transatlantic Records Gordon Haskell appears by courtesly of C.B.S.Records Produced and directed by Robert Fripp & Peter Sinfield for E.G.Records Ltd. All songs Copyright (c) E.G.Music Ltd. 1970 (p) 1970 E.G.RECORDS LTD. King Crimson BEAT NEAL AND JACK AND ME I'm wheels, I am moving wheels I am a 1952 studebacker coupe I'm wheels, I am moving wheels, moving wheels I am a 1952 starlite coupe En route..... les Souterrains Des visions du Codu.... Sartori a Paris... Strange spaghetti in this solemn city... There's a postcard we've all seen before... Past wild-haired teens in dark clothing With hands-full of autographed napkins we eat apples in vans with sandwiches... rush Into the libby life of hurry up and wait Hurry up and wait for the odd-shaped keys Which lead to new soap and envelopes... Hotel room homesickness on a fresh blue bed And the longest-ever phone call home... no Sleep no sleep no sleep no sleep and no mad Video machine to eat time... a cityscene I can't explain, the Seine alone at 4 a.m. The Seine alone at 4 a.m. ... Neal and Jack and me Absent lovers, absent lovers... HEARTBEAT I need to feel your heartbeat heartbeat so close, feels like mine all mine I need to feel your heartbeat heartbeat so close, feels like mine all mine I remember the feeling my hands in your hair hands in your hair I remember the feeling of the rhythm we made the rhythm we made I need to land sometime right next to you feel your heartbeat heartbeat right next to me..... SARTORI IN TANGER WAITING MAN I come back... come back you see my return my returning face is smiling smile of a waiting man... I be home soon soon soon soon cry on your shoulder your shoulder against my burning tears tears of a waiting man... one two three four one two three... I wait every moment I wait, wait for my chance I wait for my friend to say hello, you waiting man feel no fret feel no fret feel no fret you can wait and feel no fret and so I wait so I wait so I wait I return face is smiling be home soon cry on your shoulder tears of a waiting man every moment wait for my chance my friend say hello feel no fret you can wait and I wait and I wait and home I am... NEUROTICA Good morning, it's 3 a.m. in this great roaring city full of garbage eaters ravaging parking spots beneath my plaza window I see cheetah in their tight skins and tired heels all-night hippo in the diner crossing the street swarthy herds of young impala flambastic gibbon even a struggling monza and over there that brilliant head ornament of that Japanese macaque but look closely at the hammerhead hand in hand with the mandrill, it's a sight you're unlikely to see anywhere else on the planet... the stretch and the noise yes, yes, the howlers' resonating repertoire is not too when mixed with the more musical twern of the tropical warbler but the impatient taxi blare the squawking elderly ibis and the glass-eye snapper Hawking papers I can certainly live without also be cautious of the poisonous boomslang laughter social droppings of the fruit bat and purple queen fish and who's that babbler conversing with'a magazine stand? evidently he's getting a good reply... arrive in neurotica through neon heat disease I swear at the swarming herds I sweat the foul terrain I rove the moving scenery I have no fin no wing no stringer no claw no camouflage I have no more to say... Say...isn't that elephant fish on the corner over there look at that bush baby mud puppy noolbenger rhinoderma marmoset spring peeper shingleback skink siren skate startling sun-gazer spoonbill and suckers, they seem to be everywhere, well it's a live revue random animal parts now playing nightly right here in neurotica... so long... TWO HANDS Oh they're touching They're touching each other They're feeling They push and move And love each other, love each other They fit together like two hands... I am a face In the painting on the wall I pose and shudder And watch from the foot of the bed Sometimes I think I can Feel everything... The wind is blowing My hair in their direction The wind is binding my hair There are no windows in the painting No open windows, no open windows, no... THE HOWLER Here is the angel of the world's desire Placed on trial To hide in shrouded alley silhouettes With cigarette coiled To strike at passing voices Dark and suspect Here is the howling ire Here is the sacred face of rendezvous In subway sour Whose grand delusions prey like intellect In lunatic minds Intent and focused on The long thin matches To light the howling fire... No no, not me, Burn, I don't wanna burn..... REQUIEM ALL SONGS (C) EG MUSIC LTD 1982 Lyrics reproduced by kind permission of the publishers |