Video review: YouTube - In the court of the crims...
Shitao discovered this in Classic Rock
•5 reviews since Feb 5, 2007
video, classic-rock
•youtube.com/watch
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Shitao discovered 8 weeks ago- ...from around 1969 or 1970. THE COURT OF THE CRIMSON KING 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.
- CelticMasterPlan rated 8 months ago
- King Crimson -- with their namesake song. Note Steve Hackett on lead, amazing Bill Bruford on drums. No Fripp in this version?? : THE COURT OF THE CRIMSON KING 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.
- girleddy rated 8 months ago
- Love the flute!
- spacepatrolman rated 16 months ago
- No Its Not Gregg Lake Its John Wetton But They Do A Good Job with This Song.
