The wall on which the prophets wrote
|
Is cracking at the seams.
|
Upon the instruments of death
|
The sunlight brightly gleams.
|
When every man is torn apart
|
With nightmares and with dreams,
|
Will no one lay the laurel wreath
|
When silence drowns the screams.
|
|
Between the iron gates of fate,
|
The seeds of time were sown,
|
And watered by the deeds of those
|
Who know and who are known;
|
Knowledge is a deadly friend
|
If no one sets the rules.
|
The fate of all mankind I see
|
Is in the hands of fools.
|
|
Confusion will be my epitaph.
|
As I crawl a cracked and broken path
|
If we make it we can all sit back
|
and laugh.
|
But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying,
|
Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying.
|
|
-----------------
|
Epitaph (Including March for No Reason/Tomorrow and Tomorrow)
|
| King Crimson |
