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Van Der Graaf Generator Still Life Pilgrims Sometimes you feel so far away, distance from all the action of the play, unable to grasp signinficance, marking the plot with diffident dismay, standed at centre stage, scrabbling through your diary for a lost page: unsure of the dream. Kicking a stone across the beach, aching for love and comfort out of reach, the way ahead seems to be so bleak, there's no-one with any friendship left to speak or show you any relation between your present and future situation: lost to the dream. Away, away, away: look to the future day for hope, some form of peace within the growing storm. I climb through the evening, alive and believing: in time we shall all know our goals and so finally, home. For now all is secret - though how could I speak it, allow me the dream in my eye. I've been waiting for such a long time just to see it at last, all of the hands tightly clasped, all of us pilgrims. Walking in silence down the coast, merely to journy - here hope is the most; merely to know there is an end, all of us - lovers, brothers, sisters, friends hand in hand. Shining footprints on the wet sand lead to the dream. The time has come, the tide has almost run and drained the deep: I rise from lifelong sleep. It seems such a long time I've dreamed but now, awake, I can see we are pilgrims and so must walk this road, unknown in our purpose, alone, but now worthless. and home ever calling us on. We've been waiting here so long, all of our hands joined in hope, holding the weight on the rope, all of us pilgrims. |
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