I was thinking about thinking
But it really didn't get me very far
So I thought I'd throw a Tarot
But I only got the Priestess and the Star
There's a shadow cast between the future and the past;
The room and I agree to buy some time...
The cards don't tell truth nor lies
Only options and cusp lines:
The furniture in the black room

I've been thinking about acid
But, it seems, there's not a reason to believe
I don't make a vital breakthrough
And it walks me like a dog upon a lead
It's all unreal and, the way I feel
I'd like to try and make it on my own...
Going to the feelies is fine:
I really have me a good pleasure cruise
But, deep in my mind
I'm no better or worse, just open to the walls
Paint peels in the black of my room

I'm only talking about myself, ordering the treasure shelf
Documenting these present feelings as the future sets me reeling...
What I'll be is what I am
I'm simply trying not to sham or fake
Use vision as sense and not as crutch!
It doesn't matter all that much;
Whatever happens we'll all survive
I'm only trying not to pawn my life
When I'm (maybe) old and strait-laced
Shall I then deny all that I feel?
In words of bitter compromise
Re-smelt the wrath that's in my eyes like steel?
Be a hermit then?
Or be a miser?
Be a man who hasn't managed yet to write his rules?
The Fool?
The future holds my hand in the room...

Well, then, my ghosts shall steer down through the years
And lay a hand upon my soul
Like ice

["Tower" by Peter Hammill]

(In the) Black Room... continued

I'm feeling like a kid again
I'm feeling like I just walked in the door
And with my head on fire
I wrote this song - I don't know who it's for
Hands held fast in camera
I'll swear I heard the Stammerer exclaim:
"I am a traveller, unraveller
I only live through pain, and shame, and change!"
In my room, the secret tomb, I can see
Future forms, space/time storms:
They're all me
And I've only got to choose!

In my head I am dead if I fall
In the trap
The subtle lap
Safety's pall...
But I'm living while I choose...