Through the fish-eyed lens of tear stained eyes
I can barely define the shape of this moment in time
And far from flying high in clear blue skies
I'm spiraling down to the hole in the ground where I hide.
If you negotiate the minefield in the drive
Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun
Little by little the night turns around
Counting the leaves which tremble at dawn
Lotuses lean on each other in yearning
Under the eaves the swallow is resting
Ooooh, ooooh, ooooh, ooooh
Ooooh, ooooh, ooooh...
Beautiful lyrics in Roger Waters' masterpiece "The Gunner's Dream" which he used as references in his speech:
"Somewhere old heroes shuffle safely down the street
Where you can speak out loud
About your doubts and fears
And what's more no-one ever disappears
I've got a little black book with my poems in
I've got a bag with a toothbrush and a comb in
When I'm a good dog they sometimes throw me a bone in
I got elastic bands keeping my shoes on
Got those swollen hand blues.
Got thirteen channels of **** on the T.V. to choose from...
"When The Tigers Broke Free" It was just before dawn One miserable morning in black 'forty four'. When the forward commander Was told to sit tight When he asked that his men be withdrawn. And the Generals gave thanks As the other ranks held back The enemy tanks for a while. And...
'When I wrote “The Wall” in 1979, I thought it was about me and the way I walled myself off from others because, for one reason or another, not the least of which was the loss of my father at Anzio in 1944, I saw myself as a victim. Thirty-three years later I have come to...
CymbalineThe path you tread is narrowAnd the drop is shear and very highThe ravens all are watchingFrom a vantage point nearbyApprehension creepingLike a tube-train up your spineWill the tightrope reach the endWill the final couplet rhymeAnd it's high timeCymbalineIt's high...
Perfect Sense Part 1 The monkey sat on a pile of stonesAnd he stared at the broken bone in his handAnd the strains Viennese quartetRang out across the landThe monkey looked up at the starsAnd he thought to himselfMemory is a strangerHistory is for foolsAnd he cleaned his handsIn...