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 choo-train up your spine
|
Will the tightrope reach the end; will the final cuplet rhyme
|
And it's high time
|
Cymbaline
|
It's high time
|
Cymbaline
|
Please wake me Butterfly with broken wings is falling by your side
|
The ravens all are closing in there's no where you can hide
|
Your manager and agent are both busy on the phone
|
Selling colored photographs to magazines back home
|
And it's high time
|
Cymbaline
|
It's 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
|
Doctor Strange is always changing size
|
And it's high time
|
Cymbaline
|
It's high time
|
Cymbaline
|
Please wake me And it's high time
|
Cymbaline
|
It's high time
|
Cymbaline
|
Please wake me
|
|
-----------------
|
Cymbaline
|
| Pink Floyd |
