The rusted chains of prison moons
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Are shattered by the sun
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I walk a road horizons change
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The tournament's begun
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The purple piper plays his tune
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The choir softly sing
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Three lullabies in ancient tongues
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For the court of the crimson king
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The keeper of the city keys
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Puts shutters on the dreams
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I wait outside the pilgrims door
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With insufficient schemes
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The black queen chants the funeral march
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The cracked brass bell will ring
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To summon back the fire witch
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To the court of the crimson king
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The gardener plants an evergreen
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Whilst trampling on a flower
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I chased the wind of a prism ship
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To taste the sweet and sour
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The pattern juggler lifts his hand
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The orchestra begin
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I slowly turn the grinding wheel
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In the court of the crimson king
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On soft grey mornings widows cry
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The wise men share a joke
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I run to grasp divining signs
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To satisfy the hoax
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The yellow jester does not play
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But gently pulls the strings
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And smile as the puppets dance
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In the court of the crimson king
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-----------------
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Court Of The Crimson King
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Saxon |