Van Der Graaf Generator

(Hammill)
Lacking sleep and food and vision
here I am again, encamped upon your floor,
craving sanctuary and nourishment,
encouragement and sanctity and more.
The streets seemed very crowded,
I put on my bravest guise-
I know you know that I am acting,
I can see it in your eyes.
In the harsh light of freedom I know
that I cannot deny that I have wasted time,
have frittered it away in idle boasts
of my freedom and fidelity,
when simpler words would have profited me
most...
...it isn't enough in the end, when I'm looking
for hope.
Though the organ-monkey screams
as the pipes begin to spit
still he'll go through the dance routines
just as long as he thinks they'll fit,
just as long as he knows that it's dance, smile-
or quit.
Like the monkey I dance to a strange tune
when all of these years I've longed to lie with you,
I've bogged myself down in the web of talk,
quack philosophy and sophistry-
at physiciality I've always baulked,
like the man in the chair who believes it's
beyond him to walk.
I've been hiding behind words,
fearing a deeper flame exists,
faintly aware of the passage
of opportunities I have missed.
But the nearness and the smell of you,
La Rossa from head to toe...
I don't know what I'm telling you,
but I think you ought to know
soon the dam wall will break, soon the water
will flow.
Though the organ-monkey groans
as the organ-grinder plays
he's hoping, at the most,
for an end to his dancing days;
still he hops up and down on his perch