Hawkwind - The Awakening | Текст песни

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• Hawkwind
• The Awakening

I would rather the fire storms of atmospheres
Than this cruel descent from a thousand years
of dreams, into the starkness of this capsule.

Two of our crew still lay suspended cool
in their tombs of sleep.
Those nagging choirs of memory
the tubes and wires
running from their flesh to machinery
I would have to cut

Such midwifery is but one function of the leader here
Floating in a sac of fluid dark
A clear century of space
Away from Earth
Turner stared from the trauma of his birth
Attentive to the hypno-tapes
Assuring him
that this was reality
however grim
Our journey's end

Landing itself was nothing
We touched upon a shelf of rock
selected by the automind
And left a galaxy of dreams behind.....