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Beyond The Shrouded Horizon

WhiteWinter

0/5

“Pas d’avis pour le moment.”

Tracklist


Palms hanging over the sparkling water
Champagne on ice a coconut surprise
Laughter from the rails as yachts set sail
With waves crashing over the shores of Loch Lomond

Crocodile tears under chandelier
Cicadas chatter above the veranda
Birds of Paradise smiles and alibis
Heard by no-one on the shores of Loch Lomond

A merry dance a sarabande in castles made of sand
When your world is washed away in the cold light of day

Christmas suntan a winter summerland
Rhythm of the shingle face tingle
Love songs on the surf should I believe the words
Since when were you on the shores of Loch Lomond

Illusion and facade a crying heavy heart
Within the mists that rise from waters of cold ice
Loch Lomond
A humming bird in snow when darkness is aglow
The pain that cracks the shell the breaking of a spell
Loch Lomond

(instrumental)

(instrumental)

We’re all toys of time
Up to the end
No one owns the night
Meanwhile the river bends
Lace lies and butterflies
Flying high above

Til these eyes have seen enough

The clock is always ticking
Hanging on the wall
The mirror’s always cracked
Waiting for us all
A rose by any other name
Squandered in the dust

Til these eyes have seen enough

The currency that lingers
Far heavier then gold
The beauty of the first bloom
A fairytale of old
Torn into pieces
A childhood map of love

Til these Eyes have seen enough

Punch drunk in the wind
Your play is nearly run
The carpet snatched beneath you
Just when you’re having fun
The cards are in your hand
It’s time to call your bluff

Til these eyes have seen enough
Til these eyes have seen love


(instrumental)

I saw her on the planes
I watched her through the rain
On a buffalo dawn
Running barefoot through the corn
Her wild rose complexion
With eyes downturned
Became my obsession
I knew I had to return

To a place called freedom
To a place called freedom

High Indian cheekbones
Held by wonder
She moaned like the whining wind
Chased by thunder
Torn between home
And the horizon
A dancing gazelle
In Eternity’s sunrise

To a place called freedom
To a place called freedom

To a place called freedom
A place called freedom

High Indian cheekbones
Held by wonder
She moaned like the whining wind
Chased by thunder
Torn between home
And the horizon
A dancing gazelle
In Eternity’s sunrise

To a place called freedom
To a place called freedom


Listen for the boatman’s call
We’re casting off as evening falls
Creeping through the harbour lights
Entering the night
Tattered posters on the pier
With laughing clowns and cavaliers
Faded smiles that drift away
And never shed a tear

We’re heading out of sight
Beyond the walls of wrong and right
Desperate dreamers on the seas
Renegades and refugees

The whistling wind the rising swell
We heard six bells and all was well
Accordions sway beneath the lamps
Drunk on contraband
A cosy magic eiderdown
We can’t wake up we’ve run aground
Unchartered lands we’re lost at sea
Washed up and cast away

We’re heading out of sight
Beyond the walls of wrong and right
Desperate dreamers on the seas
Renegades and refugees

Waking to live learning to love
Like the rising tide quickening the blood
Glide of the falcon flight of the dove
Saw you in my dreams telepathy of love

And I’ve never seen your face before

Clouds like fountains in the air
Run to earth they soak the ground
A mountain range your glistening face
Monsoon falls a heart that pounds

And I’ve never seen your face before

Moon and Earth two are in one
Like the rising tide taken at the flood
Ancient mud red walls of clay
Kissed by sun at break of day
The singing moon that fills the room
Silent call of sand dunes

And I’ve never seen your face before

Waking to Life

(instrumental)

She stops to remember a gentler time
With layers of pastel and blue tinted eyes
She’s dating a guy who’s half her age
Who vaguely resembles a young Jimmy Page

She’s only looking for fantasy
She’s only looking for fantasy

While trying out perfumes in Peter Jones
A fragrance reminds her of a time in Kings Road
In an open top car the Kennedys passed by
To this day she swears that Jack gave her the eye

She’s only looking for fantasy
She’s only looking for fantasy

She’s only looking for fantasy
She’s only looking for fantasy

She tried Karl Marx and Reverend Sun Moon
A Californian commune and Tuscany too
Somewhere in Time, A Walk in the Clouds
With Women in Love, Far from the Madding Crowd

She’s only looking for fantasy
She’s only looking for fantasy
She’s only looking for fantasy
She’s only looking for fantasy

(instrumental)

You were born out in the fields
Way back when your life was real
Now you look at those you despise
With your catwalk eyes

From the wrong side of the tracks
Swore you were never ever going back
Nature gave you the perfect disguise
Catwalk eyes

Princes and poets and congressmen
At your feet they stand in a long line
They want to meet you as you walk by
Flashing those catwalk eyes

Born in the fields
Way back when your life was real
Now you look at those you despise
With your catwalk eyes

A starfish in a sea of dreams
A ride that’s never ending
From a lost world into a spinning
Fairground in space
Shining teapot spilling a mother ship of fire
Aladdin’s lamp pouring down the Milky Way
Big Dipper roller coaster jumping jack exploding
Night and day you’ve whirling on a ferris wheel

Turn this Island Earth

A red shift cluster bright
Signal from the other side
Lampwick and Slats are laughing
Beyond the speed of light years passing
All the shooting stars
Rings of Saturn calling a red planet blazing
The singing moans of Jupiter around your eyes

Turn this Island Earth

Looking back from where we are
City lights clusters of stars
While we fly
A jewel in the crown of a universe
Saphire blue in a golden starburst
Oceans of deep blue

Standing on the moon
Gazing at all the mountains in China
Mother Earth sleeping
With all her children inside her

Starbound spirits
Rising in mind out of time
Free from the bonds around us
Captives in waking mankind

Turn this Island Earth

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Infos générales

2011

Steve Hackett : guitares, chant, harmonica
Roger King : claviers, programmations
Nick Beggs : basse, Chapman Stick, ukulélé
Gary O’Toole : batterie, choeurs
Rob Townsend : saxophone soprano, clarinette basse, whistle
Christine Townsend : violon, alto
Richard Stewart : violoncelle
Amanda Lehmann : chant, choeurs, guitare
John Hackett : flűte (9), choeurs (7)
Dick Driver : contrebasse (4, 7, 10, 13)
Chris Squire : basse (10, 12, 13)
Simon Phillips : batterie (12, 13)

Produit par Steve Hackett et Roger King.
Enregistré, mixé et masterisé par Roger King aux Map Studios.

Photo et design : Harry Pearce.