“The wall on which the prophets wrote
Is cracking at the seams.
Upon the instruments of death
The sunlight brightly gleams.
When every man is torn apart
With nightmares and with dreams,
Will no one lay the laurel wreath
When silence drowns the screams.
Confusion will be my epitaph.
As I crawl a cracked and broken path
If we make it we can all sit back and laugh.
But I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying,
Yes I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying.
Yes I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying
Between the iron gates of fate
The seeds of time were sown
And watered by the deeds of those
Who know and who are known.
Knowledge is a deadly friend
If no one sets the rules.
The fate of all mankind I see
Is in the hands of fools.
The wall on which the prophets wrote
Is cracking at the seams.
Upon the instruments of death
The sunlight brightly gleams.
When every man is torn apart
With nightmares and with dreams,
Will no one lay the laurel wreath
When silence drowns the screams.
Confusion will be my epitaph.
As I crawl a cracked and broken path
If we make it we can all sit back and laugh.
But I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying,
Yes I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying.
Yes I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying
Crying..
Crying…
Yes I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying
Yes I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying
Yes I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying
Crying…”
“He had white horses
And ladies by the score
All dressed in satin
And waiting by the door
Ooooh, what a lucky man he was
Ooooh, what a lucky man he was
White lace and feathers
They made up his bed
A gold covered mattress
On which he was led
Ooooh, what a lucky man he was
Ooooh, what a lucky man he was
He went to fight wars
For his country and his king
Of his honor and his glory
The people would sing
Ooooh, what a lucky man he was
Ooooh, what a lucky man he was
A bullet had found him
His blood ran as he cried
No money could save him
So he laid down and he died
Ooooh, what a lucky man he was
Ooooh, what a lucky man he was”
“Do you wanna be an angel
Do you wanna be a star
Do you wanna play some magic on my guitar
Do you wanna be a poet
Do you wanna be my string
You could be anything
Do you wanna be the lover of another
Undercover you could even be the man on the moon
Do you wanna be the player
Do you wanna be the string
Let me tell you something
It just don’t mean a thing
You see it really doesn’t matter
When you’re buried in disguise
By the dark glass on your eyes
Though your flesh has crystallised
Still… you turn me on
Still… you turn me on
Mm… you turn me on
Do you wanna be the pillow where I lay my head
image: http://static.urx.io/units/web/urx-unit-loader.gif
Do you wanna be the feathers lying in my bed
Do you wanna be the cover of a magazine
Create a scene
Every day a little sadder
A little madder
Someone get me a ladder
Do you wanna be the singer
Do you wanna be the song
Let me tell you something
You just couldn’t be more wrong
You see I really have to tell you
That it all gets so intense
From my experience
It just doesn’t seem to make sense
Still… you turn me on
Mm… you turn me on, yeah
Mm… you turn me on”
The Shame – ‘Too Old To Go ‘Way Little Girl‘
Shy Limbs – ‘Love‘
Asia (live with Greg Lake in Japan):
Rick Wakeman (former Yes keyboardist) wrote: “Another sad loss with the passing of Greg Lake,”….”You left some great music with us my friend & so like Keith, you will live on.”
The voice of a generation is gone. One of the prog rock heroes too. RIP Greg Lake. “Our 21st Century Schizoid Man“:
Christos Doukakis