The path you tread is narrow and the trumpets sheer and very high The ravens all are watching from a vantage point nearby Apprehension creeping like a tube train up your spine Will the tight rope reach the end
will the final couplet rhyme And it s high time
Cymbaline Please wake me A butterfly with broken wings is falling by your side The ravens all are closing in
there s nowhere you can hide Your manager and agent are both busy on the phone Selling coloured photographs to magazines back home And it s high time
Cymbaline Please wake me The lions converging where you stand
They must have moved the picture plain The leaves are heavy round your feet
You hear the thunder of the train Suddenly it strikes you that they re moving into range And Doctor Strange is always changing size And it s high time
Cymbaline Please wake me

- Back to the Songs of the Album More

- Back to the Pink Floyd's Albums