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Pink Floyd
Pink Floyd


Информация
Откуда London, England
Жанры Progressive Rock
Psychedelic Rock
Годы 1965—2005
Лейблы Columbia Records
Capitol Records
Бывшие участники
David Gilmour
Syd Barrett
Bob Klose
Nick Mason
Roger Waters
Richard Wright



Альбом Pink Floyd


Obscured By Clouds (1972)
1972
1.
Obscured by Clouds (Instrumental)
2.
When You're In (Instrumental)
3.
4.
5.
6.
Mudmen (Instrumental)
7.
8.
9.
10.
Absolutely Curtains (Instrumental)
. . .

Obscured by Clouds (Instrumental)

[Нет текста]

. . .

When You're In (Instrumental)

[Нет текста]

. . .



Bridges burning gladly,
Merging with the shadows,
Flickering between the lines.
Stolen moments floating softly on the air,
Born on wings of fire and climbing higher.
Ancient bonds are breaking,
Moving on and changing sides.
Dreaming of a new day,
Cast aside the other way.
Magic visions stirring,
Kindled by and burning flames rise in her eyes.
The door stands ajar,
The wall that once were high.
Beyond the gilded cage,
Beyond the reach of ties.
The moment is at hand.

. . .



Come on, my friends,
Let's make for the hills.
They say there's gold but I'm looking for thrills.
You can get your hands on whatever we find,
Because I'm only coming along for the ride.
Well, you go your way,
I'll go mine.
I don't care if we get there on time.
Everybody's searching for something, they say.
I'll get my kicks on the way.
Over mountains, across seas,
Who knows what will be waiting for me?
I could sail forever to strange sounding names.
Faces of people and places don't change.
All I have to do is just close my eyes
To see the seagulls wheeling on those far distant skies.
All I want to tell you,
All I want to say is count me in on the journey.

. . .



Heaven said the promised land
Looks allright from where I stand
Cause I'm the man on the outside looking in
Waiting on the first step
Show where the key is kept
Point me down the right line because it's time
To let me in from the cold
Turn my land into gold
Cause there's chill wind blowing in my soul
And I think I'm growing old
Flash the red is wots...uh the deal
Got to make to the next meal
Try to keep up with the turning of the wheel.
Mile after mile
Stone after stone
Turn to speak but you're alone
Million mile from home you're on your own
So let me in from the cold
Turn my land into gold
Cause there's chill wind blowing in my soul
And I think I'm growing old
Fly bright by candlelight
Up out of my sight
And if she prefers we will never stir again
Someone said the promised land
And I grabbed it with both hands
Now I'm the man on the inside looking out
Hear me shout 'come on in, what's the news and where you been?'
Cause there's no wind left in my soul

. . .

Mudmen (Instrumental)

[Нет текста]

. . .



You shout in your sleep.
Perhaps the price is just too stepp.
Is your conscience at rest if once put to the test?
You awake with a start to just the beating of your heart.
Just one man beneath the sky,
Just two ears, just two eyes.
You set sail across the sea of longpast thoughts and memories.
Childhood's end,
Your fantasies merge with harsh realities.
And then as the sail is hoist,
You find your eyes are growing moist.
All the fears never voiced say you have to make your final choice.
Who are you and who am I to say we know the reason why?
Some are born;
Some men die beneath one infinite sky.
There'll be war, there'll be peace.
But everything one day will cease.
All the iron turned to rust;
All the proud men turned to dust.
And so all things, time will mend.

. . .



The memories of a man in his old age
Are the deeds of a man in his prime.
You suffle in gloom in the sickroom
And talk to yourself till you die.
Life is a short, warm moment
And death is a long cold rest.
You get your chance to try
In the twinkling of an eye:
Eighty years, with luck, or even less.
So all aboard for the American tour,
And maybe you'll make it to the top.
And mind how you go.
I can tell you, because I know.
You may find it hard to get off.
You are the angel of death
And I am the dead man's son.
And he died like a mole in a fox hole.
And everyone is still in the run.
And who is the master of fox hounds?
And who says the hunt has begun?
And who calls the tune in the courtroom?
And who beats the funeral drum?
The memories of a man in his old age
Are the deeds of a man in his prime.
You suffle in gloom in the sickroom

. . .



Stay and help me to end the day.
And of you don't mind,
We'll break a bottle of wine.
Stick around and maybe we'll put one down,
Because I wanna find what lies behind those eyes.
Midnight blue burning gold.
A yellow moon is growing cold.
I rise, looking through my morning eyes,
Surprised to find you by my side.
Rack my brain to try to remember your name
To find the words to tell you goodbye.
Morning dues.
Newborn day.
Midnight blue turn to gray.
Midnight blue burning gold.

. . .

Absolutely Curtains (Instrumental)

[Нет текста]

. . .


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