King Crimson - In The Court Of The Crimson King

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The rusted chains of prison moons

Are shattered by the sun.

I walk a road, horizons change

The tournament's begun.

The purple piper plays his tune,

The choir softly sing;

Three lullabies in an ancient tongue,

For the court of the crimson king.



The keeper of the city keys

Put shutters on the dreams.

I wait outside the pilgrim's door

With insufficient schemes.

The black queen chants

the funeral march,

[ 161812 ]

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