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It seems as clear as yesterday
We saw it in a dream
but dream became insanity
an awful gaping scream
So sad to see such emptiness
So sad to see such tears
And heaped up leaves of bitterness
turned mouldy down the years
Nothing but the truth.
Common words in use
Hard to find excuse
Harder than the truth
Like Icarus we flew too high
We flew too near the sun
They caught us in that awful glare
Our hapless throats were strung
But just before the final stroke
They took us victims of the rope
And cast us far beyond the deep
To lie in never ending sleep
It seems as clear as yesterday
They cast us in the deep
We lie in darkest night for good
Never ending sleep
A never ending bitter gloom
Whose darkness seldom clears
A God forsaken emptiness
Which fills our hearts with tears
Who will search for Holy Grail
Past the edge beyond the veil
Who will come beyond the light
Far from reach beyond all sight
Who will share this bitter cup
let the wild dogs tear them up
let the cold winds blow them down
drive them deep beneath the ground
Who will live in darkest night
Dankest gloom and quietest quiet
Buried deep beneath the ground
Far from any human sound
Who will search for treasure trove
Scour the seas and scale the globe
Past the peaks beyond the heights
Farmost reaches furthest sights
Who will share this bitter cup
let the wild dogs tear them up
let the cold winds blow them down
drive them deep beneath the ground
Psychiatrists and Lawyers destroying mankind
Drivin' 'em crazy...and stealing 'em blind
Bankers and Brokers ruling the world
Storing the silver and hoarding the gold
Ain't no use in preachers preaching
When they don't know what they're teaching
The weakest man be strong as Samson
When you're being held to ransom
Famine and hardship in true living colour
Constant reminders...the plight of our brother
Daily starvation our diet of news
Fed to the teeth with a barrage of views
Ain't no use in preachers preaching
When they don't know what they're teaching
The weakest man be strong as Samson
When you're being held to ransom
Black men and white men, and Arabs and Jews
Causing congestion and filling the queues
Fighting for freedom the truth and the word
Fighting the war for the end of the world
Ain't no use in preachers preaching
When they don't know what they're teaching
Weakest man be strong as Samson
When you're being held to ransom
Oh the idol, Oh the idol
They knew the monster's every trick
They knew his secrets every stitch
All of it had been a game
Nothing but a charlatan
Perhaps there was a chance of coming through
It even seemed that he might think it too
But he could see no point in diving in
He knew that he would neither sink nor swim
And so they found he'd nothing left to say
Just another idol turned to clay
It seemed to them he must know what to do
They knew that only he could pull them through
They thought that he would make a plan
He'd work it out, he'd understand
Like drowning men they clutched at every straw
They knew that he had saved them all before
But he could see no point in diving in
He knew that he would neither sink nor swim
Picture... Rush.
Story...Hush
Got the picture
got the rush
Got the story
got the hush
Got the joker
Got the flush
Got the choker
Got the crush
Picture... Rush.
Story...Hush
Got the wrong side of the bed
Got the wrong slice of the spread
Got the thin end of the wedge
Took the wrong bend on the edge
Picture...Screen
Movie... Dream
Got the picture
Got the screen
Got the movie
Got the dream
Got the make-up
Got the seam
Got the wake up
Got the scream
Picture...Screen
Movie... Dream
The bell on my door rang this morning
From the kitchen I called "Who's that there?"
Through the letter box came a grappling hook
Which grappled me right out of my chair!
Stretched out on the floor I lay helpless
Of my limbs I had lost all command
When into my ear instilling fear
Said a voice "I am Monsieur R. Monde"
"Monsieur R. Monde you are not!
That's an incredible thing to say
For I personally attended his funeral
which was twelve months to this very day!"
A rat flew down from the ceiling
Alighted upon my right ear
said "If Monsieur R. Monde is safe under the sod
Then why are you shaking with fear!"
"My name is not Scrooge" I said faintly
"and from ghosts I have nothing to fear!
But if you are R. Monde returned from the dead
Then what are you wanting here?"
From nowhere I heard a mad cackle
From nowhere a voice to me cried
"Stop calling me Monsieur R. Monde you fool!
My name's Jekyll and you're Mr. Hyde!"
In praise of fruit I wrote this song
Because of fruit my heart is strong
Who could estimate its worth?
Fruit's the finest food on earth
Fresh fruit, juice and seeds
Please don't touch, please don't squeeze
Fresh fruit, juice and pulp
Like to gulp the whole lot up
Here's another point of view
Fruit is good for doggies too
Rover wags his tail with glee
When he gets his vitamin C
Have you caught a touch of flu
And you can't think what to do
Famous doctors all agree
fruit's the safest remedy
Fresh fruit Good and sweet
Makes you want to give up meat
Fresh fruit, ripe and firm
Makes them squealing taste-buds squirm.
They tell us that we're savages
who haven't got a hope
We're burning in the furnaces,
we're choking at the smoke
They say we haven't got a choice,
refuse to recognize our voice
Yet they enjoy comissions
from the proceeds of the joke
Those Butterfly Boys
at play with their toys
Stinging like bees
itching like fleas
Butterfly Boys
you got the toys
You got the breeze
we cought the freeze
Butterfly Boys give us a break
We got the groceries you got the cake
They tell us that we're savages
who cannot understand
We're sailing on a sinking ship,
we're swimming in the sand
They put their fingers in their ears,
refuse to recognize our fears
And fly off to Jamaica
when we call them underhand
"[Chrysalis] were very upset about the song, and wanted us to change the words and title to Government Boys. We said 'Bollocks'.'' See here
The end of the evening, unable to cope
Unique entertainment no longer a joke
The close of the picture, the end of the show
Merciless torment, torturous blow
New lamps for old
Bright shiny gold
Innocent youth
Falsehood for truth
The eye of the needle, the loss of the thread
Triumphant victor, glorious dead
The cause becomes duty; duty's the blow
Which kills the picture: death of the show
Warning about copyright Words from other Procol Harum albums
PH on stage | PH on record | PH in print | BtP features | What's new | Interact with BtP | For sale | Site search | Home |