The Court Of The Crimson King (Live, Fillmore West, Dec. 15, 1969)

Good evening
Let's start off the night with one of the truly creative young groups from England
Let's welcome them on their first trip here to San Francisco
King Crimson

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
Puts shutters on the dreams
I wait outside the pilgrim's door
With insufficient schemes
The black queen chants the funeral march
The cracked brass bells will ring
To summon back the fire witch
To the court of the crimson king

The gardener plants an evergreen
Whilst trampling on a flower
I chase the wind of a prism ship
To taste the sweet and sour
The pattern juggler lifts his hand
The orchestra begins
As slowly turns the grinding wheel
In the court of the crimson king

On soft grey mornings widows cry
The wise men share a joke
I run to grasp divining signs
To satisfy the hoax
The yellow jester does not play
But gently pulls the strings
And smiles as the puppets dance
In the court of the crimson king

Thank you very much indeed, thank you
We seem to have a, a loss of power here, for a sec
Is it ok? Thank you