• King Crimson lyrics - Album: Larks' Tongues in Aspic [1973]

    Floyd

    Floyd

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    Larks' Tongues In Aspic, Part One
    (Instrumental)
    Book Of Saturday


    If I only could deceive you
    Forgetting the game
    Every time I try to leave you
    You laugh just the same

    'Cause my wheels never touch the road
    And the jumble of lies we told
    Just returns to my back to weigh me down...

    We lay cards upon the table
    The backs of our hands
    And I swear I like your people
    The boys in the band

    Reminiscences gone astray
    Coming back to enjoy the fray
    In a tangle of night and daylight sounds...

    All completeness in the morning
    Asleep on your side
    I'll be waking up the crewmen
    Banana-boat ride

    She responds like a limousine
    Brought alive on the silent screen
    To the shuddering breath of yesterday...

    There's the succour of the needy
    Incredible scenes
    I'll believe you in the future
    Your life and death dreams

    As the cavalry of despair
    Takes a stand in the lady's hair
    For the favour of making sweet sixteen...

    You make my life and times
    A book of bluesy Saturdays
    And I have to chose...
    Exiles


    Now...in this faraway land
    Strange...that the palms of my hands
    Should be damp with expectancy

    Spring...and the air's turning mild
    City lights...and the glimpse of a child
    Of the alleyway infantry

    Friends...do they know what I mean
    Rain...and the gathering green
    Of an afternoon out-of-town

    But Lord I had to go
    My trail was laid too slow behind me
    To face the call of fame
    Or make a drunkard's name for me
    Though now this other life
    Has brought a different understanding
    And from these endless days
    Shall come a broader sympathy
    And though I count the hours
    To be alone's no injury...

    My home...was a place near the sand
    Cliffs...and a military band
    Blew and air of normality
    Easy Money


    Your admirers on the street
    Gotta hoot and stamp their feet
    In the heat from your physique
    As you twinkle by in moccasin sneakers

    And I thought my heart would break
    When you doubled up at the stake
    With your fingers all a-shake
    You could never tell a winner from a snake
    but you always make money

    Easy money

    With your figure and your face
    Strutting out at every race
    Throw a glass around the place
    Show the colour of your crimson suspenders

    We would take the money home
    Sit around the family throne
    My old dog could chew his bone
    For two weeks we could appease the Almighty

    Easy money

    Got no truck with the la-di-da
    Keep my bread in an old fruit jar
    Drive you out in a motor-car
    Getting fat on your lucky star just making

    Easy money.
    The Talking Drum


    (Instrumental)
    Larks' Tongues In Aspic, Part Two


    (Instrumental)
     
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