Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 5:35 | ||||
Sprawling on the fringes of the city
In geometric order An insulated border In between the bright lights And the far unlit unknown Growing up it all seems so one-sided Opinions all provided The future pre-decided Detached and subdivided In the mass production zone Nowhere is the dreamer or the misfit so alone Chorus (Subdivisions) In the high school halls In the shopping malls Conform or be cast out (Subdivisions) In the basement bars In the backs of cars Be cool or be cast out Any escape might help to smooth the unattractive truth But the suburbs have no charms to soothe the restless dreams of youth Drawn like moths we drift into the city The timeless old attraction Cruising for the action Lit up like a firefly Just to feel the living night Some will sell their dreams for small desires Or lose the race to rats Get caught in ticking traps And start to dream of somewhere To relax their restless flight Somewhere out of a memory of lighted streets on quiet nights... Chorus |
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2. |
| 4:48 | ||||
A hot and windy August afternoon Has the trees in constant motion With a flash of silver leaves As they're rocking in the breeze The boy lies in the grass with one blade Stuck between his teeth A vague sensation quickens In his young and restless heart And a bright and nameless vision Has him longing to depart Chorus You move me You move me With your buildings and your eyes Autumn woods and winter skies You move me You move me Open sea and city lights Busy streets and dizzy heights You call me You call me The fawn-eyed girl with sun-browned legs Dances on the edge of his dream And her voice rings in his ears Like the music of the spheres The boy lies in the grass, unmoving Staring at the sky His mother starts to call him As a hawk goes soaring by The boy pulls down his baseball cap And covers up his eyes Chorus Too many hands on my time Too many feelings Too many things on my mind When I leave I don't know What I'm hoping to find When I leave I don't know What I'm leaving behind... |
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3. |
| 4:58 | ||||
Signals transmitted Message received Reaction making impact-- Invisibly Elemental telepathy Exchange of energy Reaction making contact Mysteriously Eye to I Reaction burning hotter Two to one Reflection on the water H to O No flow without the other Oh but how Do they make contact With one another? Electricity? Biology? Seems to me it's Chemistry Emotion transmitted Emotion received Music in the abstract Positively Elemental empathy A change of synergy Music making contact-- Naturally One, two, three Add without subtraction Sound on sound Multiplied reaction H to O No flow without the other Oh, but how Do we make contact With one another? |
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4. |
| 6:22 | ||||
His world is under observation-- We monitor his station Under faces and the places Where he traces points of view He picks up scraps of conversation-- Radio and radiation From the dancers and romancers With the answers -- but no clue He'd love to spend the night in Zion He's been a long while in Babylon He'd like a lover's wings to fly on To a tropic isle of Avalon His world is under anesthetic-- Subdivided and synthetic His reliance on the giants In the science of the day He picks up scraps of information-- He's adept at adaptation 'Cause for strangers and arrangers Constant change is here to stay He's got a force field and a flexible plan He's got a date with fate in a black sedan He plays fast forward for as long as he can But he won't need a bed-- He's a digital man |
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5. |
| 6:24 | ||||
We've got nothing to fear...but fear itself?
Not pain, not failure, not fatal tragedy? Not the faulty units in this mad machinery? Not the broken contacts in emotional chemistry? With an iron fist in a velvet glove We are sheltered under the gun In the glory game on the power train Thy kingdom's will be done And the things that we fear are a weapon to be held against us... He's not afraid of your judgment He knows of horrors worse than your Hell He's a little bit afraid of dying But he's a lot more afraid of your lying And the things that he fears are a weapon to be held against him... Can any part of life be larger than life? Even love must be limited by time And those who push us down that they might climb Is any killer worth more than his crime? Like a steely blade in a silken sheath We don't see what they're made of They shout about love, but when push comes to shove They live for the things they're afraid of And the knowledge that they fear is a weapon to be used against them... |
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6. |
| 3:43 | ||||
He's a rebel and a runner
He's a signal turning green He's a restless young romantic Wants to run the big machine He's got a problem with his poisons But you know he'll find a cure He's cleaning up his systems To keep his nature pure Learning to match the beat of the Old World man Learning to catch the heat of the Third World man He's got to make his own mistakes And learn to mend the mess he makes He's old enough to know what's right But young enough not to choose it He's noble enough to win the world But weak enough to lose it - He's a New World man... He's a radio receiver Tuned to factories and farms He's a writer and arranger And a young boy bearing arms He's got a problem with his power With weapons on patrol He's got to walk a fine line And keep his self-control Trying to save the day for the Old World man Trying to pave the way for the Third World man He's not concerned with yesterday He knows constant change is here today He's noble enough to know what's right But weak enough not to choose it He's wise enough to win the world But fool enough to lose it - He's a New World man |
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7. |
| 4:54 | ||||
The dancer slows her frantic pace In pain and desperation, Her aching limbs and downcast face Aglow with perspiration. Stiff as wire, her lungs on fire, With just the briefest pause-- The flooding through her memory, The echoes of old applause. She limps across the floor And closes her bedroom door... The writer stares with glassy eyes Defies the empty page, His beard is white, his face is lined And streaked with tears of rage. Thirty years ago, how the words would flow With passion and precision, But now his mind is dark and dulled By sickness and indecision. And he stares out the kitchen door Where the sun will rise no more... Some are born to move the world-- To live their fantasies But most of us just dream about The things we'd like to be Sadder still to watch it die Than never to have known it For you -- the blind who once could see-- The bell tolls for thee... |
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8. |
| 5:50 | ||||
Lit up with anticipation
We arrive at the launching site The sky is still dark, nearing dawn On the Florida coastline Circling choppers slash the night With roving searchlight beams This magic day when super-science Mingles with the bright stuff of dreams Floodlit in the hazy distance The star of this unearthly show Venting vapors, like the breath Of a sleeping white dragon Crackling speakers, voices tense Resume the final count All systems check, T minus nine As the sun and the drama start to mount The air is charged, a humid, motionless mass The crowds and the cameras, The cars full of spectators pass Excitement so thick, you could cut it with a knife Technology high, on the leading edge of life The earth beneath us starts to tremble With the spreading of a low black cloud A thunderous roar shakes the air Like the whole world exploding Scorching blast of golden fire As it slowly leaves the ground Tears away with a mighty force The air is shattered by the awesome sound Like a pillar of cloud, the smoke lingers High in the air In fascination with the eyes of the world We stare... |