Past Time Delights
I play my records through the speakers of Tannoy
Lounged on a couch with my old Cornish glass of wine
Mind some King Crimson, dear guest, would you enjoy?
As you’re an oldie too, it should work out fine
Or maybe you would like a Hindemith sonata?
I have them all, performed in brilliant style of play
Fix up a drink, sit back, relax, forget your data
Forget the world outside, that slowly burns away
The room you’re in, is my unfathomable garden
In days of fortune, through the bleak polluted air
I catch ideas for to make them slightly broaden
Just to diminish funny bathos of despair
Internal thoughts I try to shape extralinguistic
I don’t rely on words, they must derive from ape
The cunning beast in us still works antagonistic
So I express in pictures fashions of escape
Come in, my guest, it’s up to your discretion
To break away from lies and multiple restraints
Past time delights are here, providing recreation
Acceptable for free through these old paints
Let’s walk along the road of happy nightmares
I don’t refer on Focus, though it seems okay
If we could shoehorn this as well, in lofty tightness
Of high spiritual, quasi-ritual display.
Lounged on a couch with my old Cornish glass of wine
Mind some King Crimson, dear guest, would you enjoy?
As you’re an oldie too, it should work out fine
Or maybe you would like a Hindemith sonata?
I have them all, performed in brilliant style of play
Fix up a drink, sit back, relax, forget your data
Forget the world outside, that slowly burns away
The room you’re in, is my unfathomable garden
In days of fortune, through the bleak polluted air
I catch ideas for to make them slightly broaden
Just to diminish funny bathos of despair
Internal thoughts I try to shape extralinguistic
I don’t rely on words, they must derive from ape
The cunning beast in us still works antagonistic
So I express in pictures fashions of escape
Come in, my guest, it’s up to your discretion
To break away from lies and multiple restraints
Past time delights are here, providing recreation
Acceptable for free through these old paints
Let’s walk along the road of happy nightmares
I don’t refer on Focus, though it seems okay
If we could shoehorn this as well, in lofty tightness
Of high spiritual, quasi-ritual display.
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