Instrumental
change The tournaments begun. The purple piper plays his tune, The choir softly sing; Three lullabies in an ancient tongue, For the court of the crimson king
Why don't you just drop in And love the life of sin And squirm inside your cage You are a prisoner of your rage Why don't you just drop in And play the
In one small pane of my window in Bude the ocean fits
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
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
Indoor fireworks amuse your kitchen staff Dusting plastic garlic plants they snigger in the drought When you ride through the parlor Wearing nothing but
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
Happy family, one hand clap, four went by and none came back Brother Judas, ash and sack, swallowed aphrodisiac Rufus, Silas, Jonah too sang, "We'll blow
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'
Pain day sky beauty die black joy Love empty day life die pain passion Joy black day hate beauty die life Joy ache empty day pain die love Passion joy
I was just now thinkin' about The jaws of life Ah, they chew you up Spit you right back into the frying pan And how life unwinds 'Round and 'round and
Call her Moonchild Dancing in the shallows of a river Lonely Moonchild Dreaming in the shadows of a willow Talking to the trees of the Cobweb strange
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 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 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
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
Call her moonchild Dancing in the shallows of a river Lovely moonchild Dreaming in the shadows of the willow Talking to the trees of the cobweb strange
