Cover di Shleep

Shleep
Album - 29 settembre 1997 - Debaser id 25498

di Robert Wyatt

01
Heaps of Sheeps (04:56)
Robert Wyatt • Shleep
I realised my fists were clenched,
I stretched my fingers to relax.
Still not sleeping, I tried counting sheep.
One by one,
They leapt across the fence
Constructed for them,
Right to left,
Across the fence I bad constructed.
Having jumped,
They refused further direction.

Each sheep, where it landed,
Refusing to exit, remained.
(Certain a vast writhing heap
Growing fast on the left).
Try as I might,
I could not stop them entering
Once again.
Try as they might,
Not one could leave the stage.
I realised my fists were clenched.
I stretched my fingers.

Each sheep were it landed,
Refusing to exit, remained.
(Creating a vast writhing heap
Growing quickly on one side).
Try as they might,
Not one could leave the stage,
Try as I might,
I could not stop them entering,
Once again.
No longer daring to close my eyes,
Still not sleeping.

I realised my goose was cooked
I wondered shipshaped on the shore.
Il tuo voto:
02
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04
05
Free Will and Testament (04:12)
Robert Wyatt • Shleep
Given free will but within certain limitations,
I cannot will myself to limitless mutations,
I cannot know what I would be if I were not me,
I can only guess me.

So when I say that I know me, how can I know that?
What kind of spider understands arachnophobia?
I have my senses and my sense of having senses.
Do I guide them? Or they me?

The weight of dust exceeds the weight of settled objects.
What can it mean, such gravity without a centre?
Is there freedom to un-be?
Is there freedom from will-to-be?

Sheer momentum makes us act this way or that way.
We just invent or just assume a motivation.
I would disperse, be disconnected. Is this possible?
What are soldiers without a foe?

Be in the air, but not be air, be in the no air.
Be on the loose, neither compacted nor suspended.
Neither born nor left to die.

Had I been free, I could have chosen not to be me.
Demented forces push me madly round a treadmill.
Demented forces push me madly round a treadmill.
Let me off please, I am so tired.
Let me off please, I am so very tired.
Il tuo voto:
06
September the Ninth (06:40)
Robert Wyatt • Shleep
Woman wishing for wings,
(Too large a lump to pass for bird),
Hopes that by wishing hard enough
She will cast off the ballast.
And the swallows
Will politely accept her waving arms
As wings,
And she will join in with them,
And she will rise up with them,
And she will
Fly.
Il tuo voto:
07
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09
10
11
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