Not long ago-in mind - we picked our choiceand we
Words can never justifyThat I have never spokenCommunication brokenI try
I urged for a walk in the garden on a
I want to fleeA pause from the dimWhere are the
It's so strange, and yet so simple
Written on a piece
(...And All This From Which Was And Will Never Come
Where there used to be a wax-candleBlowing in the rhythm
See this form of darkness
and search its endless feast
Floating through
See this form of darknessand search its endless feastFloating through
We've got electric light - electric sightElectric mother riverYou float
An empty room
What are we living for
It is for you
It
[King Crimson, 1969]
The wall on which the prophets wrote
Is cracking
The surrounding walls for yet unknown qualities.Have you ever been
My eyes are closedI feel alonethere is something inside medripping
Yes I'm thinking of this, yes I am
Puddle town, Tom
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