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Rock

ROGER WATERS






Flickering flame

12 mp3 sur 91,4 Mo : 1h, 10'25''

Type Sortie Acquisition
CD Compile NOPC 06/05/2002 28/06/2002
Knockin' on Heaven's door   Bob Dylan   04:06 
Too much rope     05:11 
The tide is turning     05:24 
Perfect sense parts I and II     07:21 
Three wishes     06:48 
5.06 AM (Every Stranger's Eyes)     04:48 
Who needs information     05:54 
Each small candle     08:34 
Flickering flame    (new demo)   06:44 
Towers of faith     06:59 
Radio waves     04:30 
Lost boys calling    (original demo)   04:06 


Detail


 Debut 
Each small candle 08:34
 Not the torturer will scare me

Nor the body's final fall
Nor the barrels of death's rifles
Nor the shadows on the wall
Nor the night when to the ground
The last dim star of pain, is held
But the blind indifference
Of a merciless unfeeling world


Lying in the burnt out shell
Of some Albanian farm
An old Babushka
Holds a crying baby in her arms
A soldier from the other side
A man of heart and pride
Breaks ranks, lays down his rifle
And kneels by her side


He binds her wounds
He gives her food
And calms the crying child
She gives him absolution then
Across the great divide
He picks his way back through the broken
China of her life
And there at the kerb
The Samaritan Serb turns..
Turns and waves.. Goodbye


And each small candle
Each small candle
Lights a corner of the dark...
Lights a corner of the dark
Each small candle
Each small candle
Lights a corner of the dark
Lights a corner of the dark


Each small candle lights a corner of the dark
When the wheel of pain stops turning
And the branding iron stops burning
When the children can be children
When the desperadoes weaken
When the sea rolls into greet them
When the natural law of science
Greets the humble and the mighty
And the billion candles burning
Lights the dark side of every human mind


And each small candle
Lights a corner of the dark...
 Debut 

 Debut 
Flickering flame 06:44
(new demo)
 When my neurones conspire to distract my thoughts

Away from divorce and competitive sports
Back to the place where all rivers run to the sea
Then I?????..I shall be free
***repeat above line***



On a seesaw in a strange land
The jackdaw sat on the cardinals hand
And the fiddlers played
And the planners plan what would be


On a back seat in a court room
sat Molly Malone and Leopold Bloom
Until the police came down with a new broom
And swept them clean
Like Geronimo
Like Quinn the Eskimo
Like the Blackfoot
And like the Arapaho
Like Crazy Horse
I'll be the last one to lay down my gun???


And when the bell sounds for that final round
I'll be there


On the open road in a bar room
A pick up band plays a new tune
When the coloured girls sing
I feel my heart boom


When a new song hits the right note
When a clearing in the sky saves an old boat
When an insight strikes the mote (mote is a spec of dust)
From my own eye


Like Geronimo
Like Quinn the Eskimo
Like Blackfoot
And like the Arapaho
Like Crazy Horse
I'll be the last one to lay down my gun???


They're the same beyond the next plain
I'll feel the heat of the flickering flame


On an African Plain by a thorn tree
My old friend Phillipe is waiting for me
(Phillipe Constantin a very close friend of Roger's
passed away very recently he was French but spent
a lot of time in Africa)


Que se passe Que se passe
What ever will be will be
When a friend dies and the tears rise
From that deep well that never runs dry
And the women break their bracelets
And the men take their whisky outside


In a pied 'a' terre (love nest, where French men take their mistresses, a
second home in the
city)
on the rue St Denis (famous street in France where prostitutes operate)
The red velvet curtain pulls back to reveal
The place where the dark side meets the angel in me???..


the angel in me


When my synapses pause in their quest for applause
When my ego lets go of its end of the bone
To focus instead on a love that is precious to me
Then I?????..I shall be free
 Debut 

 Debut 
Towers of faith 06:59
 Ooooh, the lonely boys

In their towers of faith
Ooooh, the lonely boys
Locked in their towers of faith


The prophet reclined
In the Golan Heights


Ohhh, the lonely boys


He said "This land is my land"
To the Shiites


Ooooh, the lonely boys


And Jehovah looked up from the sea of Galilee beneath
He said "I see you, you thief!
This land is my land
And this sand is my sand
And this band is my band"


Oh the lonely boys
Lookin' over their shoulder
Checkin out every boulder in the park
Where the gates are closed from hate
After dark


And the Pope rolled up in his armoured van
He fell on his knees and kissed the land
He said something t
hat I did not understand
It was in polish
Then up stepped an aide, he said "I will translate
Here is what His Holiness said:
'I am the Chief Jesuit.
This land is Jesus' land.
And that is all
All that there is to it.'"


And in New York City
The business man in his mohair suit
In the world trade centre
Puffs on his cheroot
And he said
"Well I don't care who owns the desert sands,
My brief
Is with the hydrocarbons underneath"


And the sea of battle rages around the ancient tombs
And mother nature licks her wounds
And the lonely boys locked in their towers of faith
Who are nervous in the park when the gates are closed after dark


Ooooh, the lonely boys
In their towers of faith
Ooooh, the lonely boys
Locked in their towers of faith
 Debut 

 Debut 
Lost boys calling 04:06
(original demo)
 Come hold me now

I am not gone
I would not leave you here alone
In this dead calm beneath the waves
I can still hear those lost boys calling


You could not speak
You were afraid
To take the risk of being left again
And so you tipped your hat and waved and then
You turned back up the gangway of that steel tomb again


And in that street in July
When I hear those seabirds cry
I hold the child
The child in the man
The clild that we leave behind


And in my street in July
When she hears those seabirds cry
She holds the child
The child in the man
The child that we leave behind


The spotlight fades
The boys disband
The files notes lie mute upon the sand
And in the silence of the grave
I can still hear those lost boys calling


We left them there
When they were young
The men were gone until the west was gone
And now there's nothing left but time to kill
You never took us fishin' dad and now you never will


And in my street in July
When she hears the seabirds cry
She holds the child
The child in the man

The child that we leave behind
 Debut