peter hammill – nightman lyrics
at the dead of night, i woke
with the sense that my dreams were escaping,
all uncannily unspoken
like words at the tip of a foreign tongue…
as for language, i have none
to express quite what strangeness overwhelms me:
something’s changed and something tells me
to be still in the roar of the distant stars.
the night’s full of fire, ice and water;
by day i’ll have clay in my hands.
the book is open at a well-thumbed mark
the odds are stacked that i’m facing.
eyes grown accustomed to light and dark
can’t catch the shadows they’re chasing.
open, my heart, to the vital spark –
a disordered rhythm is racing,
it’s a danse macabre i’m tracing.
as the fire feeds the flame,
as the tongue finds expression in its flickering,
does each breath inform a name
to be dispersed just as soon as it’s exhaled?
was it to myself i came
or to some other strange and parallel existence?
will i ever see tomorrow,
to wake and begin it again?
open, the book at a well-read page,
hope triumphs over expectation;
open, the secrets of seer and sage
in awe-inspired antic-p-tion…
open, my mind in the body’s cage,
unchained in consecration;
open, my eyes, to the wider stage
the firestorm of liberation –
the night in conflagration.
with a shiver down my spine
i come back to the place where i started;
the sea of consciousness has parted
but stranded is all that i feel for sure.
as nightsight declines into darkness
by day there’ll be clay in my hands.
i may feel the clay in my hands.
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