Pictures At an Exhibition (Live At the Isle of Wight Festival, 1970) - Emerson, Lake & Palmer

Promenade

Lead me from tortured dreams

Childhood themes of nights alone,

Wipe away endless years,

childhood tears as dry as stone.

From seeds of confusion,

illusions darks blossoms have grown.

Even now in furrows of sorrow

the dance still is sung.

My life's course is guided

decided by limits drawn

on charts of my past days

and pathways since I was born.

The Sage

I carry the dust of a journey

that cannot be shaken away

It lives deep within me

For I breathe it every day.

You and I are yesterday's answers;

The earth of the past came to flesh,

Eroded by Time's rivers

To the shapes we now possess.

Come share of my breath and my substance,

and mingle our stream and our times.

In bright, infinite moments,

Our reasons are lost in our rhymes.

The Curse of Bab Yaga

Doubles faces dark defense

Talk too loud but talk no sense

Yeah I see those smiling eyes

Butter us up with smiling lies

Talk to creatures raise the dead

Fate you know sure got fed

Trained apart from houses of stone

Hour of horses pick the bone

The Great Gates of Kiev

Come forth, from love spire

Born in life's fire,

born in life's fire.

Come forth, from love's spire

In the burning, all are (of our) yearning,

for life to be.

And the pain will (must) be gain,

new life!

Stirring in, salty streams

and dark hidden seams

where the fossil sun gleams.

They were, sent from (to) the gates

Ride the tides of fate,

ride the tides of fate.

They were, sent from (to) the gates

In the burning all are (of our) yearning,

For life to be.

There's no end to my life,

no beginning to my death

Death is life.