Hangtime: an emotional Pink Floyd song just for you

[Animal]

Just change when it says mother to father.
You help me calm my youth paranoia and angst.

Mother (Pink Floyd)  
Mother, do you think they'll drop the bomb?
Mother, do you think they'll like this song?
Mother, do you think they'll try to break my balls?
Ooooowaa , should I build a wall?

Mother, should I run for President?
Mother, should I trust the government?
Mother, will they put me in the firing line?
Ooooowaa Is it just a waste of time?

Hush, my baby. Baby, don't you cry.
Momma's gonna make all of your nightmares come true.
Momma's gonna put all of her fears into you.
Momma's gonna keep you right here under her wing.
She won't let you fly, but she might let you sink.
Momma's gonna keep Baby cozy and warm.
Oooo Babe.
Oooo Babe.
Ooo Babe, of course Momma's gonna help build a wall.

Mother, do you think she's good enough,
For me?
Mother, do you think she's dangerous,
To me?
Mother will she tear your little boy apart?
Ooooowaa , will she break my heart?

Hush, my baby. Baby, don't you cry.
Momma's gonna check out all your girlfriends for you.
Momma won't let anyone dirty get through.
Momma's gonna wait up until you get in.
Momma will always find out where you've been.
Momma's gonna keep Baby healthy and clean.
Oooo Babe.
Oooo Babe.
Ooo Babe, you'll always be Baby to me.

Mother I didnt mean to be so high.
 

[Hangtime]

Ahhh floyd!! I'm touched ! ohh touch me again!! yessss... . again.... yesss...  ahem. sorry.

here's one fer just for you.. guess the title:

 
floating down through the clouds
memories come rushing up to meet me now
in the space between the heavens
and in the corner of some foreign field
i had a dream
i had a dream
goodbye max
goodbye ma
after the service when you're walking slowly to the car
and the silver in her hair shines in the cold november air
you hear the tolling bell
and touch the silk in your lapel
and as the tear drops rise to meet the comfort of the band
you take her frail hand
and hold on to the dream

a place to stay
enough to eat
somewhere old heroes shuffle safely down the street
where you can speak out loud
about your doubts and fears
and what's more no-one ever disappears
you never hear their standard issue kicking in your door
you can relax on both sides of the tracks
and maniacs don't blow holes in bandsmen by remote control
and everyone has recourse to the law
and no-one kills the children anymore
and no-one kills the children anymore

night after night
going round and round my brain
his dream is driving me insane
in the corner of some foreign field
the gunner sleeps tonight
what's done is done
we cannot just write off his final scene
take heed of the dream
take heed

[Kieran]

So,
So you think you can tell,
Heaven from Hell,
Blues skies from pain.

Can you tell a green field,
From a cold steel rail,
A smile from a veil,
Do you think you can tell?

Floyd is the chit.

[Animal]

And did they get you to trade
Your heros for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears.
Wish you were here.

[Hangtime]

Hello.
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone home?

Come on, now.
I hear you're feeling down.
Well I can ease your pain,
Get you on your feet again.

Relax.
I need some information first.
Just the basic facts:
Can you show me where it hurts?


There is no pain, you are receding.
A distant ship's smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're sayin'.
When I was a child I had a fever.
My hands felt just like two balloons.
Now I got that feeling once again.
I can't explain, you would not understand.
This is not how I am.
I have become comfortably numb.


Ok.
Just a little pinsalamander.
There'll be no more --Aaaaaahhhhh!
But you may feel a little sick.

Can you stand up?
I do believe it's working. Good.
That'll keep you going for the show.
Come on it's time to go.


There is no pain, you are receding.
A distant ship's smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're sayin'.
When I was a child I caught a fleeting glimpse,
Out of the corner of my eye.
I turned to look but it was gone.
I cannot put my finger on it now.
The child is grown, the dream is gone.
I have become comfortably numb.

[Dux]

Post-Floyd Waters:

You have a natural tendency
To squeeze off a shot
You're good fun at parties
You wear the right masks
You're old but you still
Like a laugh in the locker room
You can't abide change
You're at home on the range
You opened your suitcase
Behind the old workings
To show off the magnum
You deafened the canyon
A comfort a friend
Only upstaged in the end
By the Uzi machine gun
Does the recoil remind you
Remind you of sex
  Old man what the hell you gonna kill next
  Old timer who you gonna kill next
I looked over Jordan and what did I see
Saw a U.S. Marine in a pile of debris
I swam in your pools
And lay under your palm trees
I looked in the eyes of the Indian
Who lay on the Federal Building steps
And through the range finder over the hill
I saw the frontline boys popping their pills
Sick of the mess they find
On their desert stage
And the bravery of being out of range
Yeah the question is vexed
  Old man what the hell you gonna kill next
  Old timer who you gonna kill next
Hey bartender over here
Two more shots
And two more beers
Sir turn up the TV sound
The war has started on the ground
Just love those laser guided bombs
They're really great
For righting wrongs
You hit the target
And win the game
From bars 3,000 miles away
3,000 miles away
  We play the game
  With the bravery of being out of range
  We zap and maim
  With the bravery of being out of range
  We strafe the train
  With the bravery of being out of range
  We gained terrain
  With the bravery of being out of range
  With the bravery of being out of range
  We play the game
  With the bravery of being out of range

If you like Floyd and haven't heard the album Amused To Death go out and get it tomorrow.

[Gadfly]

Seamus, that's the dog, is outside....

[john9001]

i dono...the lyrics just dont make it with out the music

[Kieran]

I totally disagree. The words and the images they bring to mind are very powerful, and indeed stand alone well IMHO. In fact, that is the part of the music I like best. It ain't Britney singing about being adolescent...

[Animal]

Wish You were Here is a beautiful song, I dedicated that one to mrfish when he left AH.

And Numb can be used to describe many moments in my life.

Pink Floyd r0x0rz my world.

[funkedup]

*sound of bong water bubbling*
*coughs*

I want to tell you a story
About a little man
If I can.
A gnome named Grimble Grumble.
And little gnomes stay in their homes.
Eating, sleeping, drinking their wine.
He wore a scarlet tunic,
A blue green hood,
It looked quite good.
He had a big adventure
Amidst the grass
Fresh air at last.
Wining, dining, biding his time.
And then one day - hooray!
Another way for gnomes to say
Hoooooooooray.
Look at the sky, look at the river
Isn't it good?
Look at the sky, look at the river
Isn't it good?
Winding, finding places to go.
And then one day - hooray!
Another way for gnomes to say
Hoooooooooray.
Hooooooooooooooray.

[Superfly]

Guess I'll join in on the Floyd sing-a-long....

One of these days I'm going to cut you into little pieces!!!!

[narsus]

The Final Cut IMO was the best album, just one long story. Of course Gunners Dream that Hangtime quoted is my favorite.

[Ripsnort]

My favorite:

Into the distance a ribbon of black
                            Stretched to the point of no turning back
                            A flight of fancy on a windswept field
                            Standing alone my senses reeled
                            A fatal attraction holding me fast
                            How can I escape this irresistible grasp
                            Can't keep my eyes from the circling sky
                            Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth bound misfit, I.

                            Ice is forming on the tips of my wings
                            Unheeded warnings I thought I thought of everything
                            No navigator to guide my way home
                            Unfaded,empty and turned to stone
                            A soul in tension that's learning to fly
                            Condition grounded but determined to try
                            Can't keep my eyes from the circling sky
                            Tongue-tied and twisted just an earthbound misfit, I.

                            Above the planet on a wing and a prayer
                            My grubby halo, a vapour trail in empty sky
                            Across the clouds I see my shadow fly
                            Out of the corner of my watering eye
                            A dream unthreatened by the morning light
                            Could blow this soul right through the roof of the night
                            There's no sensation to compare to this
                            Suspended animation, a state of bliss
                            Can't keep my eyes from the circling sky
                            Tongue-tied and twisted just an earthbound misfit, I.

                            Learning to Fly- Pink Floyd

And Staga added this tidbit when I posted this:

On the surface, the song is simply about Gilmour's experiences learning to fly aircraft (he now
                                 owns six historic aeroplanes). Anthony Moore was always hard at work, but Gilmour had a habit
                                 of showing up late at the studio, and his excuse was all too predictable. Dave would ring in and
                                 apologise, "I'm not coming in today, because I'm learning to fly."

                                 In a wider sense, the song was a metaphor for the fact that Gilmour himself was learning to pilot
                                 the Floyd. Now in control, he was experiencing a trepidation which he likened to the experience
                                 of going up solo in an aircraft. In the middle of the track you can hear Nick Mason, another flyer,
                                 going through his pre-flight checks with the control tower.

[CavemanJ]

I've got a little black book with my poems in
I've got a bag with a toothbrush and a comb in
When I'm a good dog they sometime throw me a bone in
I've got elastic bands keeping my shoes on
Got those swollen hand blues
Got thirteen channels of toejam on the TV to choose from
I've got electric light
And I've got second sight
I've got amazing powers of observation
And that is how I know
When I try to get through
On the telephone to you
There'll be nobody home.

I've got the obligatory Henrix perm
And the inevitable pinhole burns
All downthe front of my favorite satin shirt
I've got nicotine stains on my fingers
I've got a silver spoon on a chain
I've got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains
I've got wild staring eyes
And I've got a strong urge to fly
But I've got nowhere to fly to
Oooh Babe, when I pick up the phone
There's still nobody home

I've got a pair of Gohill's boots
But I got rading roots.