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  • Roy Harper »

    Roy Harper The Lord’s Prayer текст песни

    The Lord’s Prayer

    A) Poem
    B) Modal Song parts I to IV
    C) Front Song
    D) Middle Song
    E) End Song (Front Song reprise)

    There once was a man from the old stone age
    And he used to follow the weather
    But now he’s got hung up on filling a page
    Upon whether to go or together
    And he’s been around for so damn long
    With his whooping and wailing
    Crushing questions between right and wrong
    And impaling
    The best he can hope and the worst he can fear
    On the solstices of an illusion
    A massive erection of pushy defence
    Up the whole of the prosecution
    Great solace the wound, great relish the pain
    To be loosing the reins of a poem
    To bleed from the tip of my tongue yet again
    That part of my heart that is showing
    These children conceived in the womb of this crash
    To be the sponsors of nothing much more
    Than rearguard directions of crossfingered sections
    Of purpose pot — looking for nothing
    But what is this last desperate vestige of heart over head
    But another conjecture
    No more the tomb of the martyred dead
    Than the ghost of our parting gesture
    And a hundred billion crystal balls
    Represent a remarkable failure
    To swell the song each moment long
    At the counterpoint of nature
    As four thumbs flick the tarot deck
    And two tongues fork eight aces
    Maybe sixteen fingers feel
    The fool lives in two places
    Where rosy lee can read this tea
    And leave me living the story
    A white dove with a hawks’ head
    And an open mind before me
    To sail for a land where life is a high
    Not a word to be heard or be spoken
    But the soul — woven web of the endless touch
    Of a child who could never be broken
    Who plays a new world on the brink of the ebb
    As the fish cats prowl in the harbour
    And now soars high on the beckoning tides’ long arm
    To weigh his last anchor
    And the sou’westers sing as the lifeboat bells ring
    In the heads on the faces of changes
    The heavens collage on excalibres edge
    The star in his movie converges
    With fate, in his task, and doom on his brow
    And a ship in his eye in a bottle
    Who speeds, to force, to want, to have,
    To find, to further fortune,
    Who comes from the north, west, south and east
    Of the passions of a spirit
    Witl all the flight of the wildest beast
    To ever spurr a stirrup,
    Whose pulse is the master of action
    Whose heart is an everlasting secret
    Whose arms are desire
    Whose lips are welcome
    Whose eyes tell stories
    Whose head is a journey
    Whose hands unfold
    Whose feet fly
    Whose face is the stained glass window of a continuous orgasm.
    Whose being is mine
    Whose wounds are precious
    Whose poem is a flower
    Whose gentleness is the devil
    Whose indentity is naked
    Whose magic is a gift
    Whose power is the transparent tapestry of history
    Whose stamp is a freak
    Whose wits are battles
    Whose cousin is dog
    Whose times are well fought for
    Whose stoneage is clever
    Whose poets know
    Whose music is barbarian
    Whose artists are helpless spherical mirrors spinning on the horns of a tidal
    wave
    Whose information is belief
    Whose complexes become religion
    Whose foundation is spread
    Whose word is god
    Whose books are projectiles
    Whose message is must
    Whose excuse is holy
    Who passed it down to me;
    Whose enemies are landmarks
    Whose fear is himself
    Whose hope is lust
    Whose wish is fresh
    Whose position is wary
    Whose mottoes are covers
    Whose name is hidden
    Whose nose is suspicious
    Whose technology is a tangent
    Whose strategy is dissent
    Whose thoughts are games
    Who shares his lot
    Whose ace is death
    Whose fingers invent
    Whose tales weave
    Whose knots are tied
    Whose mouth is open
    Whose ears pierce
    Whose direction is out
    Who is aware of disease
    Who feels the need to cleanse his soul
    Whose style is disguise
    Whose dream is innate
    Whose woman is soothing
    Whose little children are the delicate blossom of an orchard of electricity
    Whose spell is for conflict
    Whose quest is strength
    Whose war declared
    Whose suicide is noticed
    Whose shadow is cast
    Whose vibes you feel
    Whose pedigrees are haunted
    Whose age is unknown
    Who takes under his wing
    Whose freaks are real
    Whose reality is hunger
    Whose words are jagged
    Whose tears are shed
    Whose sick hang
    Whose weak are kicked
    Whose cities are bad shelters
    Whose sanctuary is an idea
    Who sat round a fire
    Whose teeth chew
    Whose faith is change
    Whose old age comes quickly
    Whose youth burns
    Whose systems are white sticks tapping walls
    Whose prize posession is the planet;
    Whose wildest lust is escalation
    Whose cul-de-sacs are feelers
    Whose main route is massive
    Whose run is a dance
    Whose vehicle is fantasy
    Whose home is high
    Whose role continues
    Whose bearing is savage
    Whose saints are dead
    Whose sons bark
    Whose daughters play
    Whose strength is against
    Who grows in the sun and sleeps in the moon
    Who roams deserets, plateaux, mountains, forests and plains with vast armies
    Who am I
    The spirit of those who were not here
    And never knew it
    Who left this prayer to elope
    A lover’s journey through it
    So children leave your windows open
    Across the sea
    Join our hands across the many land
    You and me
    Never grown old
    Seeing without ever being told
    Something to say
    Shut away
    Blackboard so grey
    Anyway
    I’m dreaming
    Out along the back row
    Out the window
    Cast away
    Be free with me
    Today
    Great heart mean streak
    Spare part speed freak
    I set myself a problem when I built myself a wheel
    I got myself another when I rode a horse to feel
    The plains underneath my reins
    As fast as running water
    And the big lady I’m playing with
    Has played a game of poker
    With me and cat and this and that
    Until she scored my joker
    Now we ride in chariots
    By the side of one another
    Her soft side
    My rough ride,
    Nothing to fear
    The unknown soldier’s grave is already here
    Is it too late
    To create
    A world made with care
    Is it there
    Or fleeting
    Here today and gone
    Tomorrow’s child
    Looking so wild and free
    Are we a choice
    With no voice
    Can it be
    Great heart, mean streak
    Spare part speed freak



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