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(Velvet Underground, 1967)

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The Court of the Crimson King

(King Crimson, 1969)

The rusted chains of prison moons
 Are shattered by the sun.
 I walk a road, horizons change
 The tournament's begun.
 The purple piper plays his tune,
 The choir softly sing;
 Three lullabies in an ancient tongue,
 For the court of the crimson king.

 The keeper of the city keys
 Put shutters on the dreams.
 I wait outside the pilgrim's door
 With insufficient schemes.
 The black queen chants
 the funeral march,
 The cracked brass bells will ring;
 To summon back the fire witch
 To the court of the crimson king.

 The gardener plants an evergreen
 Whilst trampling on a flower.
 I chase the wind of a prism ship
 To taste the sweet and sour.
 The pattern  juggler lifts his hand;
 The orchestra begin.
 As slowly turns the grinding wheel
 In the court of the crimson king.

 On soft gray mornings widows cry
 The wise men share a joke;
 I run to grasp divining signs
 To satisfy the hoax.
 The yellow jester does not play
 But gentle pulls the strings
 And smiles as the puppets dance
 In the court of the crimson king.

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The Black Angel's Death Song

The myriad choices of his fate
Set themselves out upon a plate
For him to choose
What had he to lose
Not a ghost bloodied country
All covered with sleep
Where the black angel did weep
Not an old city street in the east
Gone to choose
And wandering's brother
Walked on through the night
With his hair in his face
On a long splintered cut from the knife of G.T.
The rally man's patter ran on through the dawn
Until we said so long
To his skull-shrill yell
Shining brightly red-rimmed and
Red-lined with the time
Infused with the choice of the mind
On ice skates scraping chunks
From the bells
Cut mouth bleeding razor's
Forgetting the pain
Antiseptic remains cool goodbye
So you fly
To the cozy brown snow of the east
Gone to choose, choose again
Sacrificials remains make it hard to forget
Where you come from
The stools of your eyes
Serve to realize fame, choose again
And roverman's refrain of the sacrilege recluse
For the loss of a horse
Went the bowels and a tail of a rat
Come again, choose to go
And if Epiphany's terror reduced you to shame
Have your head bobbed and weaved
Choose a side to be on
If the stone glances off
Split didactics in two
Leave the colors of the mouse trails
Don't scream, try between
If you choose, if you choose, try to lose
For the loss of remain come and start
Start the game I che che che che I
Che che ka tak koh
Choose to choose
Choose to choose, choose to go

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Hey Joe

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...IN CONCERT, 2005.4.04

http://www.lazyblood.com

영상 by 숲속홍길동同志

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