Blogs

(Fripp/Sinfield/McDonald)

Lady Supermarket with an apple in her basket

Knocks in the manager's door;

Grooning to the muzak from a speaker in shoe rack

Lays out her goods on the floor;

Everything she's chosen is conveniently frozen.

"Eat it and come back for more!"



Lady Window Shopper with a new one in the hopper

Whips up a chemical brew;

Croaking to a neighbour while she polishes a sabre

Knows how to flavour a stew.

Never need to worry with a tin of 'Hurri Curri':

"Poisoned especially for you!"



No use to complain

If you're caught out in the rain;

Your mother's quite insane.

Cat food cat food cat food again.



Lady Yellow Stamper with a fillet in a hamper

Dying to finish the course;

Goodies for the table with a fable on the label

Drowning in miracle sauce.

Don't think I am that rude if I tell you that it's cat food,

"Not even fit for a horse!"

(Fripp/Wetton/Palmer-James)

I guess I tried to show you how

I'd take the crowd with my guitar

And business men would clap their hands

And clip another fat cigar

And publishers would spread the news

And print my music far and wide

And all the kids who played the blues

Would learn my licks with a bottle neck slide



But now it seems the bubble's burst

Although you know there was a time

When love songs gathered in my head

With poetry in every line

And strong men strove to hold the doors

While with my friends I passed the age

When people stomped on dirty floors

Before I trod the rock'n'roll stage



I'll thank the man who's on the 'phone

And if he has the time to spend

The problem I'll explain once more

And indicate a sum to lend

That ten percent is now a joke

Maybe thirty, even thirty-five

I'll say my daddy's had a stroke

He'd have one now, if he only was alive



I like the way you look at me

You're laughing too down there inside

I took my chance and you took yours

You crewed my ship, we missed the tide

I like the way the music goes

There's a few good guys who can play it right

I like the way it moves my toes

Just say when you want to go and dance all night...

(Belew/King Crimson)

it's here I sit and rust amid this ruin and rancor like tire irons

toothy grills and car parts before me...the acid rain floods my

floorboard, burns my pores, and rots my upholstry.. once I was

worshipped, polished magnificently, now I lay in decay by the dirty

angry bay...



I'm ready to leave

I wanna get out of here

I'm ready to ride away

I don't want to die in here

I'm ready to ride



mmy skin is metallic now, no longer an elegant powder blue... my body

unhinged and sleeping in the jungle of motor block manifolds and metal

relics... what was deluxe becomes debris, I never questioned loyalty,

but this dead end demolishes the dream of an open highway...



dig me...but don't...bury me

(Cross/Fripp/Palmer-James)

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