{"id":649,"date":"2013-04-08T23:00:19","date_gmt":"2013-04-08T21:00:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/?page_id=649"},"modified":"2013-05-03T01:17:42","modified_gmt":"2013-05-02T23:17:42","slug":"1-the-aerosol-grey-machine","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/teksty\/teksty-oryginalne\/teksty-vdgg\/1-the-aerosol-grey-machine\/","title":{"rendered":"1. The Aerosol Grey Machine"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a>
\nAfterwards<\/strong><\/p>\n

You stare out in yellow eyes larger than my mind;
\nin viscous pools of joy, relaxing, we glide…
\nit’s all too beautiful
\nfor my mind to bear.
\nand, as we shimmer into sleep, something’s unshared.<\/p>\n

But, seeing the flower that was there yesterday,
\na tear forms just behind the soft peace of your shades…
\nThe world’s too lonely
\nfor a message to slip
\nbut between the dying rails of peace
\nyou trip.<\/p>\n

The petals that were blooming are just paper in your hand;
\nyour eyes, which were clear in the night, are opaque as you stand…
\nIt was too beautiful
\nfor it to last…
\nThese visions shimmer and fade out of
\nthe glass.<\/p>\n

<\/a><\/p>\n

Orthenthian Street (Part I)<\/strong><\/p>\n

I feel a calling for the sea, I want to walk on the sand dunes…
\nI hope you’ll forgive me if I say I can’t take you:
\nat some times I’ve got to get away,
\nif just to get a break from the play
\nthat we’re all involved in.<\/p>\n

All the love I’m living now could have ended yesterday
\nif the snow had fallen too hard up there on the Motorway…
\nIf it happens, don’t feel sorry, I won’t feel alone:
\nit’s just another travelling zone
\nthat you can’t come on.<\/p>\n

<\/a><\/p>\n

Orthenthian Street (Part II)<\/strong><\/p>\n

Can’t stop for a second:
\nwe might see how silly we all are.
\nCan’t get out, even for a moment:
\nmight be hit by a passing car.
\nDreams shatter and fall into dust,
\nas long as we’re travelling I suppose they must.
\nBut, while we’re on the road, our days’ll be glowing;
\nand when we part, as you know we must,
\nwe’ll leave, just going
\never so slowly,
\never so slowly.<\/p>\n

Motorway signs flash past like flies,
\nit’s getting late and we’re going home.
\nWe all travel in parallel lines,
\nheading into the twilight zone.
\nAll I really want now is you by my side;
\nyes, it’s a sweet ride
\nwhile we’re still together.<\/p>\n

Yes, it’s a sunny day, and we’re off on our sea trip;
\nThe water may be cold in the bay,
\nbut we’re safe on our sailing ship,
\nand, if ice forms, you can walk home to land
\nand still cling to my hand
\nif you still want to…<\/p>\n

<\/a><\/p>\n

Running Back<\/strong><\/p>\n

I thought I’d give it up for good,
\n’cause none of my actions are understood.
\nI thought I’d really leave,
\nand my coming back’s something you’d never perceive.
\nI thought I’d make it;
\nYes, I really thought I’d make it,
\nbut then you smiled, you didn’t rile me,
\nnow I’m running back
\nrunning, running back.<\/p>\n

I saw a vision of a love long deceased
\nand a chilly wind coming from East.
\nI know I can say I did my best,
\nbut there were no more warm winds from the West.
\nStill I thought I’d make it;
\nYes, I really thought I’d make it,
\nbut then you smiled, you didn’t rile me,
\nnow I’m running back
\nrunning, running back.<\/p>\n

I thought you’d never be missed,
\nand I really believed we’d never share another kiss.
\nAnd I thought for the last time I’d touched your hand,
\nbut your love draws me back like quicksand.
\nStill I thought I’d make it;
\nYes, I really thought I’d make it,
\nbut then you smiled, you didn’t rile me,
\nnow I’m running back
\nrunning, running back.<\/p>\n

And now I’m coming yes home.<\/p>\n

I’m coming home.<\/p>\n

<\/a><\/p>\n

Into a Game<\/strong><\/p>\n

I never thought it could come to this,
\nas you sit there crying,
\nhanging on with your fingertips
\nto something that’s already dead.
\nNow we’re into a game
\nand it’s all a bit strange.<\/p>\n

Once on a time we were sincere;
\nnow, we’re acting charades,
\nhiding behind cracked images
\nfrom other people’s stages;
\nnow, we’re into a game,
\nand it’s all a bit strange,
\nbut familiar, too…
\nthe rules never change; I know it, but do you?<\/p>\n

I’ve seen it all before,
\nand this play no longer moves me,
\nbut the closing of a door
\nis never easy.<\/p>\n

Look at the cards in your hands:
\nkings turned to jokers.
\nThere are no prizes for laughing:
\nsituation hopeless.
\nNow we’re into a game
\nand it’s all a bit strange,
\nbut familiar, too…
\nthe rules never change; I know it, but do you?<\/p>\n

Let’s stop it now.<\/p>\n

It’s no good looking to me for reassurance.
\nI’m tired and don’t need you to show me
\nyour bruised innocence.<\/p>\n

<\/a><\/p>\n

Aerosol Grey Machine<\/strong><\/p>\n

Just one breath, and it’s instant death,
\nit’s the Aerosol Grey Machine!
\nJust one breath, and it’s instant death,
\nit’s the Aerosol Grey Machine!<\/p>\n

You’re walking along the road one day,
\nup comes a man dressed all in grey;
\nhe blows a little aerosol in your face
\nand you find your mind’s all over the place…<\/p>\n

Just one breath, and it’s instant death,
\nit’s the Aerosol Grey Machine!<\/p>\n

(hype:) „Buy an Aerosol Grey Machine for your own home today!”
\n(dissent:) „Shan’t. Shan’t. I’m not going to!”
\n(sniggersnigger. chortle.)<\/p>\n

<\/a><\/p>\n

Aquarian<\/strong><\/p>\n

Now we sit here in our special place,
\nall wearing our happy faces gladly.<\/p>\n

Sunlight appears in our world; our joy
\nhas been turned from badness.
\nNow we’ve moved and left alone
\nand it’s easier that way.
\nWe are riding on rainbows
\nand happy today.
\nNow we move to the sun in every direction;
\nwe are cloaked in veils of mystic protection…
\njoking a lot, smoking or not,
\nfloating our yacht off to freedom,
\nvoting to be Aquarian!<\/p>\n

I hold silver flashing metal in the palm
\nof my petal hand, watching it quiver:
\nto breathe too close is death –
\nah, but wat is breath but a way to deliverance?
\nSoon we will all be joined
\nin a great silver tube,
\nwanting every one to come along,
\nthat means you too!
\nNow we move to the sun in every direction;
\nwe are cloaked in veils of mystic protection…
\nmapping the way, clapping to say
\nwe’re happy today, and assured of
\nthe fact that we’re all Aquarian!<\/p>\n

Hardly any money… who needs bread anyway?
\nWell, I mean to say, it’s just the read to freedom!
\nEverything’s too funny; we just ride along so high,
\nwatch the bad scenes floating by, who needs them?
\nSoon we will all be joined
\nin a great silver tube,
\nwanting every one to come along,
\nthat means you too!
\nNow we move to the sun in every direction;
\nwe are cloaked in veils of mystic protection…
\nLighting the path, righting the past,
\nfighting the dark like centurions,
\nwriting our names as Aquarians!
\nAs Aquarians, but as Aquarians!<\/p>\n

Writing our names as we move to the sun,
\nwe’re Aquarian!<\/p>\n

<\/a><\/p>\n

Necromancer<\/strong><\/p>\n

Yes I live in the black woods, where you dare not even
\nspeak my name.
\nIf there is evil in your heart and you will come near to me you will
\nlose your sane.
\nMy form is mystic, but my heart is pure,
\nyou’d better believe what I say:
\nI am the Necromancer.<\/p>\n

I cast deep spells and potent: I am a Seer
\nof the Real.
\nMy forces work against evil, for I love
\nall I feel.
\nI know the secrets long forgotten,
\nyou’d better believe in me:
\nI am the Necromancer.<\/p>\n

Look into my eyes!
\nI tell you, occults power lies in love.
\nI fight against darkness, the power
\nof the Black.<\/p>\n

Every day the power is greater, and soon the world will
\ncome to rights.
\nThrough the magic, through the power, shaman shall die
\non the seventh night.
\nAnd now remember magic is here;
\nyou’d better believe in the White.<\/p>\n

I am the Necromancer,
\nand I come to carry your heart away to good.<\/p>\n

<\/a><\/p>\n

Octopus<\/strong><\/p>\n

I want to paint you poems full of fire,
\nyou who I do not know.<\/p>\n

Now my mind is tested with love which
\ntwists and wavers from side to side and which
\nsome day soon you may see…
\nI want you to cascade through ten thousand
\nrainbows with me and dredge mountains
\nfrom the sea:
\nyou who I now begin to know. But emotion is pent up inside,
\ntoo scared of dying again to live,
\nand meanwhile I must endure your
\nred-copper hair screaming like a
\nwater-baby black eyes stare
\nfrom my ceiling:
\nyou who I now truly know…<\/p>\n

Now I cannot see too clearly
\nand already my trellis stands bare…
\nHow can I break free of these overclinging
\narms which entwine and enfold me?… And reach
\nto the clear blue sea?
\nI want you to know, but how can I
\ntell you? I want you to see
\nbut my own eyes are blind…<\/p>\n

The Octopus now enfolds me,
\nI know you too well…<\/p>\n

All lyrics by Peter Hammill<\/p>\n

\"Przewi\u0144<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Afterwards You stare out in yellow eyes larger than my mind; in viscous pools of joy, relaxing, we glide… it’s all too beautiful for my mind to bear. and, as we shimmer into sleep, something’s unshared. But, seeing the flower … Czytaj dalej →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":659,"parent":517,"menu_order":1,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"sidebar-page.php","meta":{"_sitemap_exclude":false,"_sitemap_priority":"","_sitemap_frequency":"","footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-649","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/649","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=649"}],"version-history":[{"count":12,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/649\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":666,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/649\/revisions\/666"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/517"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/659"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=649"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}