The Children of the summer's end
|
Gathered in the dampened grass
|
We played Our songs and felt the London sky
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Resting on our hands
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It was God's land
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It was ragged and naive
|
It was Heaven
|
|
Touch, We touched the very soul
|
Of holding each and every life
|
We claimed the very source of joy ran through
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It didn't, but it seemed that way
|
I kissed a lot of people that day
|
|
Oh, to capture just one drop of all the ecstasy that swept that afternoon
|
To paint that love
|
upon a white balloon
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And fly it from
|
the topest top of all the tops
|
That man has pushed beyond his brain
|
Satori must be something
|
just the same
|
|
We scanned the skies with rainbow eyes and saw machines of every shape and size
|
We talked with tall Venusians passing through
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And Peter tried to climb aboard but the Captain shook his head
|
And away they soared
|
Climbing through
|
the ivory vibrant cloud
|
Someone passed some bliss among the crowd
|
And We walked back to the road, unchained
|
|
"The Sun Machine is Coming Down, and We're Gonna Have a Party
|
The Sun Machine is Coming Down, and We're Gonna Have a Party
|
The Sun Machine is Coming Down, and We're Gonna Have a Party
|
The Sun Machine is Coming Down, and We're Gonna Have a Party
|
The Sun Machine is Coming Down, and We're Gonna Have a Party."
|
|
-----------------
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Memory Of A Free Festival
|
| David Bowie |
