gilmour BLues

when i was a child
i had a weird dream
a guy with a guitar
and a hallway full of scream

as i turned to life
distortion entered my veins
rythm surpassed my spirits
and now i'd take the pain

and then there was a guy
the boy of "Barett"
he was coming back to life
and i wished he was here

the boy kept rhyming
and kept running like hell
he remembered a day
and felt his pulse well

a saucerful of secrets and
a momentary lapse of reason
the boy obscured by cloud and
a delicate sound of a thunder

dogs, pigs, sheep behind the wall
all the time and money and MOTHER
he was the dark side of the moon
and shone on his crazy diamond

i can feel the gilmour blues
and movement of those fingers
i have become "comfortably numb"
let the solo engulf my soul

freedom and ME

dark and dull all over
when despair over triumph runs
hopes starve to death
and freedom beckons

when brotherhood unites
to bring an uprising
the flame evolves from dark ashes
and history keeps revising

theinfinite force from insides
oozes out of souls
and the efforts intermingle
to bring about drastic goals

breathing in the fresh air we,
stand straight facing the sun
years have passed when we were free
but why still freedom beckons

i look at myself and feel
the surroundins are dumb
although i am a part of freedom
why my feet are limping and numb

when all the ways lead
to the same woeful end
then how can anyone feel that
freedom is not to pretend

when the dreams of freedom
shackled by my own mother's son
when hearts produce hurts
why shouldn't freedom beckon

fooTbaLL

unconvincingly i stride along the deserted passages
my heart noticing those fearful messages
the feeling of loneliness brings a chill to the spine
small whispers kill the remaining confidence of mine

well it seems like a horrible stanza
frightening, scaring sort of extravagenza
but beneath me, besides me, lies my soul
whatever people call it,i call it football

the corridor may be empty but i have got someone
i am inspired to perform, i really fear no one
the feet are moving well, my body stretched
the more i practice more, my heart relaxed

the match was not a match, my performance condemned
dumbstruck i limped, deeply depressed
my body aches and down i fall
after playing my soul i called football

but somewhere in the darkness i find a glimpse of light
again i rise from my ashes, my fists clenched tight
one can take the life but can't take the soul
i will once again play my soul, i still call it football

the desire of transformation inside me beckons
i mould, i modify, i cross my horizons
stupendous modulations keep making me strong
i perform, i win, i can't do anything wrong

the climax concludes, i responded to my heart's call
left everything to play my soul, i call it football