Pink Floyd
Pink Floyd - Free Four 2 lyrics
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The memories of a man in his old age Are the deeds of a man in his prime. You shuffle in the gloom of the sick-room And talk to yourself as you die. And life is a short warm moment, And death is a long cold rest. You?ll get your chance to try In the twinkling of an eye; Eighty years with luck or even less. So all aboard for the American tour And maybe you?ll make it to the top. And mind how you go And I can tell you ?cause I know: You may find it hard to get off. And you are the Angel of Death And I am the dead man?s son. He was buried like a mole in a foxhole And everyone?s still on the run. And who is the master of foxhounds? And who says the hunt has begun? And who calls the tune in the courtroom? And who beats the funeral drum? The memories of a man in his old age Are the deeds of a man in his prime. You shuffle in the gloom of the sick-room And talk to yourself as you die.