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 . . . . . . . . .  

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

https://PinkFloyd.lnk.to/AMomentaryLapse