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A Louse Is Not a Home

アーティスト:Peter Hammill  アルバム:The Silent Corner and the Empty Stage 

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Sometimes it's very scary here, sometimes it's very sad, sometimes I think I'll disappear; betimes I think I have. There's a line snaking down my mirror, splintered glass distorts my face and though the light is strong and strange it can't illuminate the musty corners of this place. There is a lofty, lonely, Lohengrenic castle in the clouds; I draw my murky meanings there but seven years' dark luck is just around the corner and in the shadows lurks the spectre of Despair. A cracked mirror 'mid the drapes of the landing: split image, labored understanding... I'm only trying to find a place to hide my home. I've lived in houses composed of glass where every movement is charted but now the monitor screens are dark and I can't tell if silent eyes are there. My words are spiders upon the page, they spin out faith, hope and reason - but are they meet and just, or only dust gathering about my chair? Sometimes I get the feeling that there's someone else there: the faceless watcher makes me uneasy; I can feel him through the floorboards, and His presence is creepy. He informs me that I shall be expelled. What is that but out of and into? I don't know the nature of the door that I'd go through, I don't know the nature of the nature that I am inside .... I've lived in houses of brick and lead where all emotion is sacred and if you want to devour the fruit you must first sniff at the fragrance and lay your body before the shrine with poems and posies and papers or, if you catch the ruse, you'll have to choose to stay, a monk, or leave, a vagrant. What is this place you call home? Is it a sermon or a confession? Is it the chalice that you use for protection? Is it really only somewhere you can stay? Is it a rule-book or a lecture? Is it a beating at the hands of your Protector? Does the idol have feet of clay? Home is what you make it, so my friends all say, but I rarely see their homes in these dark days.


投稿者: PetitLyrics
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