Roy Harper — Stormcock

hors d’oeuvres

that Dylan thing of words and guitar that just rips you to shreds. That never ever wore disguise, and never ever saw blue skies , who quickly lived, now slowly dies…the guitar pins it down, the words hold you riveted to your seat…

the same old rock

All along the Ancient wastes the thin reflections spin…
slightly Spanish intro…2 guitars….when Roy’s voice comes in, like honey on that guitar, spilling over the neck…cloud the setting sun, and carry us to other days, and other days to one. Inside each eye is sitting like the sword inside the blade…for here we stand hand in hand fighting for the promised land…..and you try to tell me…it spins, it sparkles, it rocks…and rolls…there is a famous straggler stands on the edge of time…the same old rock…everlasting light is burning bright inside his cage…damn it all man, can’t you see? The guitar just takes you higher and higher…then that voice again…the guitars build and build, then plink plunk plink…into

One Man Rock and Roll Man
Welcome home you total stranger
Welcome to the fountainhead
Welcome home there is no danger
You don’t need your gun man we’re already dead

Me and my Woman
I never know what kind of day it is, on my battlefield of ideas….but the way she touches and the way it feels must be just how it heals…the reverb echoes…the guitar sings, the two sing together….then the sudden strings…where we’re going to…darkness she’s my lover, we live in chains, too far away

the cuckoo she moves through the dawn fanfare…lovely words…where I’m a going to…

and it all ends before you know it’s begun
Peace,
Squid