EPITATH

KING CRIMSON

Tonalité :

Th e wall on which the prophets wrote

Is cracking at the seams.

Upon the inst ruments of death

The sunlight brightly gleams.

When every man is torn apart

With nightmares and with dreams,

Will no one lay the laurel wreath

When silence drowns the screams.

Confusion will be my epitaph.

As I crawl a cracked and broken path

If we make it we can all sit back and laugh.

But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying

Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying

Be tween the iron gates of fate,

The seeds of time were sown,

And watered by the deeds of those

Who know and w ho are known;

Knowledge is a deadly friend

If no one sets the rules.

The fate of all m ankind I see

Is in the hands of fool s.

(Instrumental)

The w all on which the prophets wrote

Is cracking at the seams.

Upon the i nstruments of death

The sunlight brightly gleams.

When every man is torn apart

With nightmares and with dreams,

Will no one lay the laurel wreath

When silence drowns the screams.

Confusion will be my epitaph.

As I crawl a cracked and broken path

If we make it we can all sit back and laugh.

But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying

Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying

Gibson, version 1.0

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Version : 1.0
Dernière modification : 2009-12-21

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