Альбом Hawkwind

I would've liked you to have been deep frozen too
And waiting still as fresh in your flesh for my return to earth
But your father refused to sign the forms to freeze you
Let's see you'd be about 60 now, and long dead by the time I return to earth
My time held dreams were full of you as you were when I left, still underage
Your android replica is playing up again it's no joke
When she comes she moans another's name
But that's the spirit of the age, that's the spirit of tha age

I am a clone, I am not alone
Every fibre of my flesh and bone is identical to the others
Everything I say is in the same tone as my test tube brother's voice
And there's no choice between us
If you had ever seen us you'd rejoice in your uniqueness
And consider every weakness something special of your own
Being a clone I have no flaws to identify
Even this doggerel that pours from my pen
Has just been written by another twenty telepathic men
Word for word it says:
"Oh, for the wings of any bird other than a battery hen".

I've got the serum and I'm going to take it
All the way to Boston, oh I've got to get through
The going won't be easy, but I'm going to make it
It's the only thing that I'm cut out to do

Ride the post-atomic radioactive trash
The sky's on fire from that nuclear flash
Diving through the burning hoop of doom in an
eight wheeled anti-radiation tomb
Thank you Dr. Strangelove for going do-lally and
leaving me the heritage of Damnation Alley, Damnation Alleyway

No more Arizona, now Phoenix is fried up
Oklahoma City what a pity it's gone
Louisiana delta where the Mississip's dried up
No more Chatanooga, Cherokee, Lexington

Radiation wasteland, radiation wasteland
Ashes coming at me now, craters coming at me now
Radiation wasteland, I've got my anti-radiation machine
Thank you Dr. Strangelove, I said thank you Dr. Strangelove
For giving me the ashes and post-atomic dust
The sky is raining fishes it's a mutation zoo
Going down Damnation Alley, well good luck to you
Good luck to you now

Armor plated angel, motor-pony express
Armor plated angel, motor-pony express
Going down Damnation Alley it's one hell of a mess

Our legends tell we came from a seed
that travelled at a whirlwind speed
till it came to rest upon this land
that once was green and is now all sand
that buried us up to our eyes
and made us watchers of the skies
till the shadow wings came for our sight
and left us to conspire with night.

Einstein was not a handsome fellow
Nobody ever called him Al
He had a long moustache to pull on, it was yellow
I don't believe he ever had a girl
One thing he missed out in his theory
Of time and space and relativity
Is something that makes it very clear
He was never gonna score like you and me
He didn't know about
Quark, Strangeness and Charm
Quark, Strangeness and Charm
Quark, Strangeness and Charm

I had a dangerous liaison
To have been found out would've been a disgrace
We had to rendezvous some days on
the corner of an undiscovered place
We got sick of chat chat chatter
And the look upon everybody's face
But all that doesn't not anti-matter now
We've found ourselves a black hole out in space
And we're talking about
Quark, Strangeness and Charm
Quark, Strangeness and Charm
Quark, Strangeness and Charm

Copernicus had those Renaissance ladies
Crazy about his telescope
And Galileo had a name that made his
Reputation higher than his hopes
Did none of those astronomers discover
While they were staring out into the dark
That what a lady looks for in her lover
Is Charm, Strangeness and Quark
And we're talking about
Quark, Strangeness and Charm
Quark, Strangeness and Charm
Quark, Strangeness and Charm

Hashish-hashin Hashish-hashin
Hashish-hashin Hashish-hashin
Hashish-hashin Hashish-hashin
Hashishin

Black-September Black-September
Black-September Black-September
Black-September Black-September
Black-September

Death unto all infidels, in oil
Guide us o thou genie of the smoke
Lead us to a thousand and one nights
In the perfumed gardens of delight

Petro-dollar Petro-dollar
Petrol-D'allah Petrol-D'allah
Petro-dollar Petro-dollar
Petro-dollar

It is written in the soul of the desert
It is written in the signs in the stars
It is written in the sands of the hour-glass
It is written

It is written in the eye of the falcon
It is written in the shade of the scorpion
It is written in the wealth of the sun
It is written

It is written that man's truth is a mirage
It is written that death is an oasis
It is written for all unbelievers
It is written

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In visions of acid we saw through delusion
and brainbox pollution, we knew we were right
The streets were our oyster, we smoked urban poison
and we turned all this noise on, we knew how to fight
We dropped out and tuned in, we spoke secret jargon
and we would not bargain for what We had found
in the days of the underground

We believed in Guevera, we saw that head held up
and our anger welled up but we kept it cool
No need for machine guns 'cause the system was crumbling,
our leaders were fumbling While we broke every rule
We saw them on T.V. they'd blown their cover
and we tried to smother their voices With sound,
in the days of the underground

Whatever happened to those chromium heroes,
are there none of them still left around,
since The days of the underground?

Now we can look back at the heroes we were then,
we made quite a stir then with our sonic attack,
street-fighting dancers, the assassins of silence,
with make-believe violence on a hundred watt stack
They offered us contracts, we said "we don't need 'em",
we'll just take our freedom and will not be bound
in the days of the underground.

And some of us made it but not smiling Michael
His black motorcycle got eaten by rust
And John the Bog dreamt that he slept at the wheel
But when he woke it was real, too late to have sussed
And Jeff was a poet who wrote with a spray can on walls
Saying "Hey man, I believe that we've drowned"
In the days of the underground

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