by Syd Barret



On a distant shore, miles from land

stands the ebony totem in ebony sand

a dream in a mist of grey...

on a far distant shore...

The pebble that stood alone

and driftwood lies half buried

warm shallow waters sweep shells

so the cockles shine...



A bare winding carcase, stark

shimmers as flies scoop up meat, an empty way...

dry tears...

crisp black squeaks tore reeds

make a circle of grey in a summer way, around man

so don't ground...



I'm trying

I'm trying to find you!

To find you

I'm living, I'm giving,

To find you, To find you,

I'm living, I'm living,