portrait of this blog's author - by Stephen Blackman 2008

Monday, October 25, 2021

Start the week with Syd and Pink Floyd going to the woods . . . . .

To the Woods? . . . . . . . 

No, not to the woods.

To the Woods?

No, NOT to the woods . . . . . . . . 

To the Woods?

To the woods . . . . . . . . .  

#pink floyd from USE YOUR ILLUSION


#pink floyd from USE YOUR ILLUSION




#Syd Barrett from take me on a trip upon your magic swirling ship





Syd in the Woods


Pow R Toch H


Lucifer Sam

Chapter 24

Bike


The Scarecrow

Arnold Layne

See Emily Play

Sorrow


The sweet smell of a great sorrow lies over the land
Plumes of smoke rise and merge into the leaden sky
A man lies and dreams of green fields and rivers
But awakes to a morning with no reason for waking
He's haunted by the memory of a lost paradise
In his youth or a dream, he can't be precise
He's chained forever to a world that's departed
It's not enough, it's not enough
His blood has frozen and curdled with fright
His knees have trembled and given way in the night
His hand has weakened at the moment of truth
His step has faltered
One world, one soul
Time pass, the river roll
And he talks to the river of lost love and dedication
And silent replies that swirl invitation
Flow dark and troubled to an oily sea
A grim intimation of what is to be
There's an unceasing wind that blows through this night
And there's dust in my eyes, that blinds my sight
And silence that speaks so much louder than words
Of promises broken



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