The Rock Bands & Music Discussion Forum

The Classic Rock Forum. The 1970's was the best decade for rock music. Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Deep purple, Hawkwind, Black Sabbath. Let's talk rock!

Hawkwind Lyrics - Album Hawkwind

Floyd

Administrator
Staff member
Hurry On Sundown:

Well, hurry on sundown
See what tomorrow brings
Hurry on sundown
See what tomorrow brings
Well it may bring war
Any old thing
Well, look into your mind's eye
See what you can see
Well, look into your mind's eye
See what you can see
There's hundreds of people
Like you and me

Oh, hurry on sundown
Hurry on sundown
Oh, hurry on sundown
Hurry on sundown

Well, hurry on sundown
See what tomorrow brings
Hurry on sundown
See what tomorrow brings
Well it may bring war
Any old thing
Look into your mind's eye
See what you can see
Look into your mind's eye
See what you can see
There's hundreds of people
Like you and me

The Reason Is:
[Instrumental]
Be Yourself:
Be yourself, see yourself
I can see others like me
Be yourself, see yourself
Try and find peace of mind
Be yourself, see yourself
Be yourself, see yourself
Be yourself

Be yourself, see yourself
I can't find peace of mind
Be yourself, see yourself
I can see others like me
Be yourself, see yourself
Be yourself, see yourself
Be yourself, see yourself
Be yourself
Paranoia - Part1:
[Instrumental]
Paranoia - Part2:
[Instrumental]
Seeing It As You really Are:
[Instrumental]
Mirror Of Illusion:
In the cold grey-mask of morning I cry out
But no-one feels the sound that I shout
And you don't hear me through the tears you've shed
And the dream-world that you've found
Will one day drag you down
The mirror of illusion reflects the smile

The world from your back door seems so wide
The house, so tiny it is from inside
A box that you're still living in
I cannot see for why
You think you've found perception's doors
They open to a lie

In the cold grey-mask of morning I cry out
But no-one feels the sound that I shout
And you don't see me through the tears you've shed
And the dream-world that you've found
Will one day drag you down
The mirror of illusion reflects the smile

The world from your back door seems so wide
The house, so tiny it is from inside
A box that you're still living in
I cannot see for why
You think you've found perception's doors
They open to a lie
Bring It On Home:
Well, I bought my ticket and I got my load
And the conductor yells "now all aboard"
Well, I take my seat and I sit right back
And I watch that train go down the tracks

I said, "Baby"
I said, "Baby
Gonna bring it on home now
Gonna bring it on home now
Gonna bring it on home now"

Well, I bought my ticket and I got my load
And the conductor yells "now all aboard"
Well, I take my seat and I sit right back
And I watch that train go down the tracks

I said, "Baby"
I said, "Baby
Gonna bring it on home now
Gonna bring it on home now
Gonna bring it on home now"
Kiss The Velvet Whip:
Feel the pain burning, reaching up your spine
How your body shudders higher as you climb
You're reaching for the sky as the lash descends
Tingling stars of fire, burning in your head
Lightning in your opening eyes, bursting thoughts of power
Feel the velvet whip turning sweet thoughts to sour

Feel the pain burning, reaching up your spine
How your body shudders higher as you climb
You're reaching for the sky as the lash descends
Tingling stars of fire, burning in your head
Lightning in your opening eyes, bursting thoughts of power
Feel the velvet whip turning sweet thoughts to sour

Down and down you slowly slide
Your burning body under mine
Together a world with legs entwined
Silky skin with hardened lines
The scent of leather in the air
The colours change not really there
You taste the sweetness of the pain
Will you ever climb so high again?

Feel the pain burning, reaching up your spine
How your body shudders higher as you climb
You're reaching for the sky as the lash descends
Tingling stars of fire, burning in your head
Lightning in your opening eyes, bursting thoughts of power
Feel the velvet whip turning sweet thoughts to sour
Cymbaline:
The path you tread is narrow and the drop is shear and very high
The ravens all are watching from a vantage point near by
Apprehension creeping like a tube-train up your spine
Will the tightrope reach the end? Will the final couplet rhyme?
And it's high time, Cymbaline
High time, Cymbaline
Please wake me

Butterfly with broken wings has fallen 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
High time, Cymbaline
Please wake me

The lines converging where you stand, they must have moved the picture plane
The leaves are heavy around 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 sides
And it's high time, Cymbaline
High time, Cymbaline
Please wake me
 
Top