'Too Many Poets'

Key to authors' pseudonyms

Once we were green,
fresh to the road,
we rode with the lion
and played with the sword.
Now the nights are much dimmer;
the wine is now drier
and the toasts to the lost
bring a lump to our throats.
Once we were green,
fresh to the road,
stealing a feeling
from accidental friends
who our chosen enemies
outlawed in quotes.
Sealing down a wasted town,
reeling in the fountain of hope.
Once we rode with the lion
and played with the sword.
Now the toasts to the lost
bring a lump to our throats.
The wine is now drier.
The stakes stop't getting hi'er.
Now we fly with the dolphins
and swim with the goats.

Procol Harum concerts in 2001: index page

Manchester: Palers' Convention

Back to 'Too Many Poets'

 Index of Faux-lyrics for 'Too Many Poets'