Cymbaline (Live In Montreux 18 & 19 Sept 1971)

The path you tread is narrow
And the drop is sheer and very high
The ravens all are watching
From a vantage point nearby
Apprehension creeping
Like a tube-train up your spine
Will the tightrope reach the end
Will the final couplets rhyme

And it's high time, Cymbeline
High time, Cymbeline
Please, wake me

A butterfly with broken wings
Is falling by your side
The ravens all are closing in
And there's nowhere you can hide

Your manager and agent
Are both busy and on the phone
Selling coloured photographs
To magazines back home

And it's high time, Cymbeline
High time, Cymbeline
Please, wake me

The lines converging where you stand
They must have moved the picture plane
The leaves are heavy around your feet
And you hear the thunder of the train
And suddenly it strikes you
That they're moving into range
Doctor Strange is always changing size

And it's high time, Cymbeline
High time, Cymbeline
Please, wake me

The lines converging where you stand
They must have moved the picture plane
The leaves are heavy around your feet
And you feel the thunder of the train
Suddenly it strikes you
That they're moving into range
Doctor Strange is always changing size

And it's high time, Cymbeline
High time, Cymbeline