Peter Hammill
180426272.gif

I was thinking about thinking but it really didn't get me very far,
so I thought I'd throw a Tarot but I only got the Priestess and the Star.
There's a shadow cast between the future and the past:
the room and I agree to buy some time...
The cards don't tell truth nor lies,
only options and cusp lines
the furniture in the black room.
I've been thinking abour acid,
but, it seem there's not a reason toÛbelieve.
I don't make a vital breakthrough and it walks me like a dog upon a lead.
It's all unreal and, the way I feel,
I'd like to try and make it on my own...
Going to the feeling is find:
I really have me a good pleasure cruise.
But, deep in my mind,
I'm no better or worse, just open to the walls.
Paint peels in the black of my room
I'm only talking about myself, ordering my treasure shell,
documenting these present feelings as the future sets me reeling...
What I'll be is what I am,
I'm simply trying not to sham or fake.
Use vision as sense and not as crutch!
It doesn't mateer all that much;
whatever happens we'll all survive.
I'm only trying not to pawn my life.
When I'm (maybe) old and strait-laced, shall I then deny all that I feel?
In words of bitter compromise, re-smelt the wrath that's in my eyes
like steel?
Be a hermit then?
Or be a miser?
Be a man who hasn't managed yet to write his rules?
The Fool?
The future holds my hand in the room...
Well, then my ghosts shall steer down through the years
and lay a hand upon my soul
like ice.


Mirror lyrics:

like ice.
and lay a hand upon my soul
Well, then my ghosts shall steer down through the years
The future holds my hand in the room...
The Fool?
Be a man who hasn't managed yet to write his rules?
Or be a miser?
Be a hermit then?
like steel?
In words of bitter compromise, re-smelt the wrath that's in my eyes
When I'm (maybe) old and strait-laced, shall I then deny all that I feel?
I'm only trying not to pawn my life.
whatever happens we'll all survive.
It doesn't mateer all that much;
Use vision as sense and not as crutch!
I'm simply trying not to sham or fake.
What I'll be is what I am,
documenting these present feelings as the future sets me reeling...
I'm only talking about myself, ordering my treasure shell,
Paint peels in the black of my room
I'm no better or worse, just open to the walls.
But, deep in my mind,
I really have me a good pleasure cruise.
Going to the feeling is find:
I'd like to try and make it on my own...
It's all unreal and, the way I feel,
I don't make a vital breakthrough and it walks me like a dog upon a lead.
but, it seem there's not a reason toÛbelieve.
I've been thinking abour acid,
the furniture in the black room.
only options and cusp lines
The cards don't tell truth nor lies,
the room and I agree to buy some time...
There's a shadow cast between the future and the past:
so I thought I'd throw a Tarot but I only got the Priestess and the Star.
I was thinking about thinking but it really didn't get me very far,


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