1958 Yellow Jacket

The sweet smell of a great sorrow lies over the land

Plumes of smoke rise and merge into the leaden sky

A man lies and dreams of green fields and rivers

But awakes to a morning with no reason for waking

He's haunted by the memory of a lost paradise

In his youth or a dream, he can't be precise

He's chained forever to a world that's departed

It's not enough, it's not enough

His blood has frozen & curdled with fright

His knees have trembled & given way in the night

His hand has weakened at the moment of truth

His step has faltered

One world, one soul

Time pass, the river rolls

It's not enough it's not enough

His hand has faltered

And he talks to the river of lost love and dedication

And silent replies that swirl invitation

Flow dark and troubled to an oily sea

A grim intimation of what is to be

There's an unceasing wind that blows through this night

And there's dust in my eyes, that blinds my sight

And silence that speaks so much louder that words, Of promises broken.

  Thank you Sir David Gilmour