I remember what it felt like at seventeen,
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I was a cat, a snake, a lizard, a mouse;
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still got an interest in the limousine
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and a spouse and a brat,
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country house, London flat.
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I'm gonna head for the island when the summer's out,
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I'm gonna do all the stuff that I can,
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drink like a fish in a waterspout -
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I'm a fan of the flow,
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it began long ago,
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I'm a man who should know it doesn't stop.
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There's so much to remember,
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so much to forget:
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we're all in the possession of the future tense,
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but don't know it yet.
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The flesh comes through the spirit,
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the spirit through the flesh...
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we look the Sphinx in the face for answers
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and, of course, we're really not impressed.
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We're caught between age and beauty,
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experience and youth,
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so we feel the need acutely
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for any kind of Truth.
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Oh, but we get copped some days,
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caught between options we've failed
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to play, such wasted chance.
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So I join the wastrel's dance:
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it has slow as well as fast movement,
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and any change must be an improvement
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on simply fossilising, standing still.
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I got a steady vocation for the Quiet Zone,
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I just can't wait for the song to be sung,
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I'm still possessed by the promise
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of the Pleasure Dome
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You're so young, you're so here,so gone,
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so old, so near,so wrong,
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such a drag so queer,so strong,so...
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to be told.
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Such a drag to be told...
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-----------------
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The Sphinx In The Face
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Van Der Graaf Generator |