'Too Many Poets'

Key to authors' pseudonyms

The cannon flashes on the skyline
But they're not ours
How could they be
But I told the boy they were a sign
That any hour
We would be free

And your eyes condemn me for the lie
For the false hope
That my words gave
You smiled and brushed a tear from your eye
And blamed the smoke
Made the boy brave

The rifles rattle down the alleys
They are close now
Seeking us out
The boys eyes ask how long till we're free
His questions now
Almost a shout

What can I say to this partisan
Born to the word
I couldn't say
You tell the boy if you think you can
How dreams and words
They die today

Just a dream         in the eyes of fools

Just a dream          trampled on and used

Just a dream          of what could have been

Just a dream          a rare and pure dream

The banners they burn and pistols crack
As comrades fall
Into the dust
The boys eyes wince as the bullets smack
Asks is that all
We're paid for trust

Now I see the hero in your eyes
Just a lover
As I once was
And the hero who fed the boy lies
Just a father
With a dead cause

Where's the tomorrow my words painted
So vividly
That your heart shone
In this the hour the dream is tainted
I'll tell the boy
Tomorrow's gone 

Procol Harum concerts in 2001: index page

Manchester: Palers' Convention

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