Pete Sinfield still the album mix

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Still I wonder how it is to be a stream
From a dark well constant flowing
Winding seawards over ancient mossy wheels
Yet feel no need of knowing?
Still I wonder how it is to be a tree
Circled servant to the seasons
Only drink on sky and rake the winter wind
And need no seal of reasons?
Still I wonder why I wonder why I'm here
All my words just the shaft of my flail
As I race over this beautiful sphere
Like a dog who is chasing his…
Tailors and tinkers, princes and Incas
Sailors and sinkers, before me and like me
Still I wonder how it is to be a bird
Singing each dawns sweet effusions;
Flying far away when all the world has stirred
Yet seek no vain conclusions…
Still I wonder if I passed some time ago
As a bird, or a stream, or a tree?
To mount up high you first must sink down low
Like the changeable tides of the
Caesars and Pharoahs, prophets and heroes
Poets and hobos, before me and after me
All the painters and dancers, mountainside chancers
Merchants and gamblers
bankers and ramblers
Winners and losers, angels and boozers
Beatles and Bolans
raindrops and oceans
Kings, pawns and deacons
fainthearts and beacons
Caesars and Pharoahs

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