HAWKWIND:   Hawkwind

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
There's hundreds of people
Like you and me

The Reason Is

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
I can't find peace of mind

Be yourself, see yourself
I can see others like me

Paranoia (Part 1)

Paranoia (Part 2)

Seeing It As You Really Are

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

Bring It On Home

Well, I bought my ticket
And I got my load
And the conductor yelled
Now all aboard

Well, I take my seat
And I sit right back
And I watch
That train go down the tracks

Said Baby
I said Baby
Gonna Bring It on Home Now
Gonna Bring It on Home Now
Gonna Bring It on Home Now

Kiss Of The Velvet Whip

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 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
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

And it's high time, Cymbaline
It's high time, Cymbaline
Please wake me