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.
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...
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.
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"
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
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
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.
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
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
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