(Brock / Lloyd-Langton)
|
There's a circle on a paper
|
High a planet in the sky
|
From the dust which will not settle
|
Hours is the time you lie.
|
|
Track your finger in the cluster
|
You've found the cause which is called must
|
Remember always you are nothing
|
Though others say that you must suss.
|
(You must trust the new messiah)
|
|
Of time which is the passing quasar
|
A venture short within ourselves
|
Through the veil of sleek emotion
|
The mists of dark cannot be felt.
|
|
-----------------
|
The Fifth Second Of Forever (Circles)
|
| Hawkwind |
