Pinwheel of Death

Phil Collins


SONGS

Writers Anthony Banks, Phil Collins, Peter Gabriel, Steve Hackett, Michael Rutherford

Genres Classic Rock, Rock

Recorded 1971

Lyrics SUNDAY AT SIX
WHEN THEY CLOSE
BOTH THE GATES
A WIDOWED PAIR,
STILL SITTING THERE.
WONDER IF THEY'RE LATE
FOR CHURCH
AND IT'S COLD
SO THEY FASTEN
THEIR COATS
AND CROSS THE GRASS,
THEY'RE ALWAYS LAST.

PASSING BY
THE PADLOCKED SWINGS,
THE ROUNDABOUT
STILL TURNING,
AHEAD THEY SEE
A SMALL GIRL
ON HER WAY HOME
WITH A PRAM.

INSIDE THE ARCHWAY
THE PRIEST GREETS THEM
WITH A COURTEOUS NOD.
HE'S CLOSE TO GOD.
LOOKING BACK
AT DAYS OF FOUR
INSTEAD OF TWO.
YEARS SEEM SO FEW,
HEADS BENT IN PRAYER,
FOR FRIENDS NOT THERE.

LEAVING TWOPENCE
ON THE PLATE,
THEY HURRY
DOWN THE PATH
AND OUT THE GATE
AND WAIT
TO BOARD THE BUS
THAT AMBLES
DOWN THE STREET.
Writers Anthony Banks, Phil Collins, Peter Gabriel, Steve Hackett, Michael Rutherford

Genres Classic Rock, Rock

Recorded 1971

Lyrics PLAY ME OLD KING COLE,
THAT I MAY JOIN WITH YOU,
ALL YOUR HEARTS
NOW SEEM
SO FAR FROM ME
IT HARDLY SEEMS
TO MATTER NOW.

AND THE NURSE
WILL TELL YOU LIES
OF A KINGDOM
BEYOND THE SKIES,
BUT I AM LOST
WITHIN THIS HALF-WORLD,
IT HARDLY SEEMS
TO MATTER NOW.

PLAY ME MY SONG,
HERE IT COMES AGAIN,
PLAY ME MY SONG,
HERE IT COMES AGAIN.
JUST A LITTLE BIT,
JUST A LITTLE BIT
MORE TIME,
TIME LEFT
TO LIVE OUT MY LIFE.
PLAY ME MY SONG,
HERE IT COMES AGAIN,
PLAY ME MY SONG,
HERE IT COMES AGAIN.

OLD KING COLE
WAS A MERRY OLD SOUL.
AND A MERRY OLD SOUL
WAS HE.
SO HE CALLED
FOR HIS PIPE,
AND HE CALLED
FOR HIS BOWL,
AND HE CALLED
FOR HIS FIDDLERS THREE.

THE CLOCK,
TICK TOCK,
ON THE MANTLEPIECE,
AND I WANT,
AND I FEEL,
AND I KNOW,
AND I TOUCH,
THE WALL.

SHE'S A LADY,
SHE'S GOT TIME.
BRUSH BACK YOUR HAIR
AND LET ME
GET TO KNOW YOUR FACE.
SHE'S A LADY,
SHE'S MINE.
BRUSH BACK YOUR HAIR,
AND LET ME
GET TO KNOW YOUR FLESH.

I'VE BEEN WAITING HERE
FOR SO LONG
AND ALL THIS TIME
THAT PASSED ME BY,
IT DOESN'T SEEM
TO MATTER NOW.
YOU STAND THERE
WITH YOUR FIXED EXPRESSION
CASTING DOUBT
ON ALL
I HAVE TO SAY.
WHY DON'T YOU TOUCH ME,
TOUCH ME,
WHY DON'T YOU TOUCH ME,
TOUCH ME,
TOUCH ME NOW,
NOW, NOW, NOW, NOW,
NOW, NOW, NOW, NOW,
NOW, NOW, NOW, NOW,
NOW, NOW, NOW, NOW,
NOW, NOW, NOW......
Writers Anthony Banks, Phil Collins, Peter Gabriel, Michael Rutherford

Genres Classic Rock, Rock

Recorded 1972

Lyrics A CARVED OAK TABLE
TELLS A TALE,
OF TIMES
WHEN KINGS AND QUEENS
SIPPED WINE
FROM GOBLETS GOLD,
AND THE BRAVE
WOULD LEAD THEIR LADIES
FROM OUT THE ROOM
TO ARBORS COOL.
A TIME OF VALOR,
AND LEGENDS BORN,
A TIME WHEN HONOR
MEANT MUCH MORE
TO A MAN THAN LIFE,
AND THE DAYS
KNEW ONLY STRIFE
TO TELL RIGHT
FROM WRONG
THROUGH LANCE
AND SWORD.

WHY, WHY,
CAN WE NEVER BE SURE
TILL WE DIE
OR HAVE KILLED
FOR AN ANSWER,
WHY, WHY,
DO WE SUFFER EACH RACE
TO BELIEVE
THAT NO RACE
HAS BEEN GRANDER?
IT SEEMS BECAUSE
THROUGH TIME AND SPACE,
THOUGH NAMES MAY CHANGE
EACH FACE
RETAINS THE MASK
IT WORE.

A DUSTY TABLE,
MUSTY SMELLS,
TARNISHED SILVER
LIES DISCARDED
UPON THE FLOOR,
ONLY FEEBLE LIGHT
DESCENDS
THROUGH A FILM OF GREY
THAT SCARS THE PANES.
GONE THE CARVING,
AND THOSE
WHO LEFT THEIR MARK,
GONE THE KINGS
AND QUEENS,
NOW ONLY THE RATS
HOLD SWAY,
AND THE WEAK MUST DIE
ACCORDING TO
NATURE'S LAW
AS OLD AS THEY.

WHY, WHY,
CAN WE NEVER BE SURE
TILL WE DIE
OR HAVE KILLED
FOR AN ANSWER,
WHY, WHY,
DO WE SUFFER EACH RACE
TO BELIEVE
THAT NO RACE
HAS BEEN GRANDER?
IT SEEMS BECAUSE
THROUGH TIME
AND SPACE,
THOUGH NAMES
MAY CHANGE
EACH FACE RETAINS
THE MASK IT WORE.
Writers Anthony Banks, Phil Collins, Peter Gabriel, Steve Hackett, Michael Rutherford

Genres Classic Rock, Rock

Recorded 1972

Lyrics WATCHER OF THE SKIES,
WATCHER OF ALL,
HIS IS A WORLD ALONE,
NO WORLD IS HIS OWN.
HE WHOM LIFE
CAN NO LONGER SURPRISE,
RAISING HIS EYES
BEHOLDS
A PLANET UNKNOWN.

CREATURES SHAPED
THIS PLANET'S SOIL,
NOW THEIR REIGN
HAS COME TO AN END,
HAS LIFE AGAIN
DESTROYED LIFE?
DO THEY PLAY ELSEWHERE,
OR DO THEY KNOW MORE
THAN THEIR CHILDHOOD GAMES?
MAYBE THE LIZARD'S
SHEDDED ITS TAIL,
THIS IS THE END
OF MAN'S LONG UNION
WITH EARTH.

JUDGE NOT THIS RACE
BY EMPTY REMAINS,
DO YOU JUDGE GOD
BY HIS CREATURES
WHEN THEY ARE DEAD?
FOR NOW THE LIZARD'S
SHEDDED ITS TAIL,
THIS IS THE END
OF MAN'S LONG UNION
WITH EARTH.

FROM LIFE ALONE,
TO LIFE AS ONE,
THINK NOT
YOUR JOURNEY DONE.
FOR THOUGH YOUR SHIP
BE STURDY,
NO MERCY HAS THE SEA,
WILL YOU SURVIVE
ON THE OCEAN OF BEING?
COME ANCIENT CHILDREN,
HEAR WHAT I SAY,
THIS IS
MY PARTING COUNCIL
FOR YOU ON YOUR WAY.

SADLY NOW
YOUR THOUGHTS
TORN TO THE STARS,
WHERE WE HAVE GONE,
YOU KNOW
YOU NEVER CAN GO.
WATCHER OF THE SKIES,
WATCHER OF ALL,
THIS IS YOUR FATE ALONE,
THIS FATE IS YOUR OWN.
 

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