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RUSH
SECTOR THREE
Released: November 21st, 2011
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Highest Billboard Chart Position: N/A
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Liner Notes

BOX SET CREDITS

Supervised by Jeff Fura

5.1 Surround Sound Mixed by Richard Chycki at Mixland, Ontario
5.1 Surround and Stereo Mastering by Andy VanDette at Masterdisk, NY
Head Archivist: Francois Lamoureux at FogoLabs Corp.

DVD Production Facility: Craigman Digital
Menu Design: Craig Anderson
Authoring: Craig Anderson and David Dieckmann

Art Direction: Michele Hone, Vartan
Design: Mike Diehl
Photo Research: Jo Almeida
Photos: Bruce Cole, Fin Costello, Richard Fegley, Gerard Gentil, David Street
Slipcase portrait: Deborah Samuel

Production Manager: Michele Horie
Product Manager: Rob Jacobs
Publicity: Sujata Murthy

Management: Ray Danniels at SRO Management, Inc., Toronto

Special thanks: Pegi Cecconi, Andy Curran, Anna LeCoche, Meghan Symsyk, Herb Agner, Hilary Remnant, Heather Kanipe, Elliot Kendall, Andrew Labarrere, Beatriz Pace, everyone at SRO/Anthem, Strobosonic, UMD and UMe.

© 2011 Anthem Entertainment / The Island Def Jam Music Group.


"SIGNALS" Liner Notes

Geddy Lee - Bass guitars, syntheizers, vocals, Pitcher
Alex Lifeson - Electric and acoustic guitars, Taurus pedals, First Base
Neil Peart - Drums and percussion, Third Base

Produced by Rush and Terry Brown, Left Field
Arrangements by Rush and Terry Brown
Recorded and mixed at Le Studio, April, May, June, and July 1982
Engineered by Paul Northfield, Centre Field (a regular Albert One-Stone)
Assisted by Robbie Whelan Right Field
Digitally mastered by JVC
Mastered by Bob Ludwigand Brian Lee at Gateway Mastering Studios, Portland, Maine
Special guest performance by Ben Mink, electric violins on Losing It, appears courtesy of FM

Art direction, graphics, and cover concept by Hugh Syme
Photography by Deborah Samuel
Photographic colour optics by Kineblok Inc.
Hydrant courtesy of the Department of Public Works, TORONTO

Management by Ray Danniels, SRO Productions, TORONTO
Executive Production by Moon Records

Road Manager and Lighting Director: Howard Ungerleider
Concert Sound Engineer: Jon Erickson
Stage Managers: Nick Kotos and Liam Birt, Shortstop
Stage Right Technician and Crew Chief: William B. Birt
Stage Left Technician: Skip Gildersleeve
Centre Stage Technician: Larry Allen, Coach & Catcher
Guitar and Synthesizer Maintenance: Tony Geranios Second Base
Stage Monitor Mixer: Steve Byron
Concert Security: Ian Grandy
Concert Projectionist: Lee Tenner
Personal Shreve-of-all Trades: Kevin Flewitt

Concert Sound by National Sound: Tom Linthicum, Fuzzy Frazer, and Dave Berman
Concert Lighting by See Factor International: Nick Kotos, Mike Weiss, Jeffrey Thomas McDonald, Mark Shane
Busheads and Truckfaces: Tom Whittaker, Billy Barlow, Lance Vaughn, Pat Lynes, Arthur MacLear, Red McBrine, Bob Hoeschel

Most Valuable Persons: At Le Studio; André, Yaël, Paul, Robbie, Richard, Solange, Nancy, Lina, Awesome André Moreau and Michel; Al, Pat, Jill, and Maria at The Baldwins; The Embers at Settlers Bay; Warren Cromartie and the Montreal Expos'; Intellivision Baseball; The Ziv Orchestra; Trevor and the Commons Hotel Trevors Tramps (34-15); the Griffin family and the people of NASA;
Mr. O. Scar for pre-production work; Bill Churchman; all the Oak Manoroids at SRO

Special Awards for Technical Assistance: John Kaes and See Factor, Ted Veneman, Richard Ealey, Ron Shaughnessy, the Music Shoppe TORONTO, the inflationary Ted McDonald, the Percussion Centre FORT WAYNE, Tama drums, Avedis Zildjian cymbals

A fond farewell and best wishes to Michael Hirsh and Greg Connolly

© 1982 Mercury Records © 1982 Anthem Entertainment


"GRACE UNDER PRESSURE" Liner Notes

Geddy Lee - Bass Guitars, Synthesizers, Vocals
Alex Lifeson - Guitars and Synthesizers
Neil Peart - Drums, Percussion, and Electronic Percussion

Produced by Rush and Peter Henderson
Engineered by Peter Henderson
Assisted by Frank Opolko and Robert Di Gioia
Recorded at Le Studio, Quebec, between November 1983 and March 1984
In memory of Robbie Whelan

Management by Ray Danniels, SRO Productions, Inc., Toronto

Executive Production by Moon Records

Art Direction and cover painting by Hugh Syme
Portrait by Yousuf Karsh

PPG Synthesizer programming assisted by Jim Burgess and Paul Northfield
Pre-production engineering by Jon Erickson
Mastered by Bob Ludwig and Brian Lee at
Gateway Mastering Studios, Portland, Maine

Road Manager and Lighting Director: Howard Ungerleider
Stage Left Technician, Crew Chief, and President: Liam Birt
Stage Manager: Nick Kotos
Concert Sound Engineer: Jon Erickson
Stage Left Technican: Skip Gildersleeve
Centre Stage Technician: Larry Allen
Guitar and Synthesizer Maintenance: Tony Geranios
Monitor Engineer: Steve Byron
Concert Projectionist: Lee Tenner
Personal Assistant: Kevin Flewitt
Concert Sound by National Sound: Tom Linthicum, Fuzzy Frazer, Dave Fletcher
Concert Lighting by See Factor: The Johnson Brothers: Mike Weiss, Tom Higgins, Mark Cherry, Dave Berman, Jeffrey T. MacDonald, Frank Scilingo

Concert Rigging by Southfire Rigging: Billy Collins and Tom Wendt

Busheads and Truckfaces: Tom Whittaker, Pat Lynes, Bill Barlow, Mac and Candy MacLear, Harry Smith, Jack Stone, Red McBrine, Gordon Scott

Mille mercis à: les gens de Horseshoe Valley (Judy, Steve, Kevin, Kathy), Le Studio (André, Yaël, Paul Richard, Frank, Robert, Solange, Lina, Nancy, Yvon, Pierre, André et Michel et le Bouffe en Broche), the Mike Stone Happy Hour, the Franko Polko Singers, Trevor and the Commons, Frankie's Bar and Grill, Le Chasseur de Nuit, Bill Churchman, Barry Murphet, the International Scouting Organization of Cliff Burnstein, Peter Mensch, and Val Azzoli, the Griffin Family, NASA and the Johnson Space Centre, Roger Kneebend, Ann Uumellmahaye, Dr. Hfuhruhurr, Hentor the Barbarian, the Uglies, the Rory Gallagher Band and crew, Golden Earring and crew, Darrell and Werner en Allemagne, Yousuf and Estrellita Karsh (and Mary and Matthew), The B-Man, Tokyo Cro, Stuart Hall ("That's the weather, this is the time; now stay tuned for more news"), Jean Gallia et les autres proffesseurs de L'École Berlitz, et au bureau de SRO/Anthem: Ray, Val, Pegi, Sheila, Tom, and Marilyn, et toujours notre bon vielle ami--Broon.

We appreciate the technical assistance of: The Music Shoppe (Thornhill), Bill Ward, Marcus, the Percussion Centre (Fort Wayne), Tama Drums, Avedis Zildjian Cymbals, Direct Synthesis, Quantec, Fostex, Loft, Richard Ealey and Bruce Anthony.

© 1984 Mercury Records © 1984 Anthem Entertainment


"POWER WINDOWS" Liner Notes

Geddy Lee - Bass guitar, synthesizers, bass pedals, vocals
Alex Lifeson - Electric and acoustic guitars
Neil Peart - Drums, percussion and electronic percussion

Produced by Peter Collins and Rush
Engineered by Jimbo "James" Barton
Arrangements by Rush and Peter Collins
Pre-production engineering by Mr. Head

Recorded at The Manor, England, assisted by Steve Chase, at Air Studios, Montserrat, assisted by Matt Butler and at Sarm East, London, assisted by Dave Meegan, Heff Moraes, and Paul Wright

Mixed at Sarm East

Synthesizer programming by Andy Richards and Jim Burgess
Additional keyboards by Andy Richards
Strings arranged and conducted by Anne Dudley, recorded at Abbey Road Studios, London
Choir arranged and conducted by Andrew Jackman, recorded at Angel Studios, London

Mastered by Bob Ludwig and Brian Lee at
Gateway Mastering Studios, Portland, Maine

Management by Ray Danniels, SRO Management, Inc., Toronto
Executive Production by Moon Records, Val Azzoli and Liam Birt

Art direction, graphics, and cover painting by Hugh Syme
Photography by Dimo Safari

Tour manager and Lighting Director: Howard Ungerleider
President: Liam Birt
Production Manager: Nick Kotos
Concert Sound Engineer: Jon Erickson
Stage Left Technician: Skip Gildersleeve
Centre Stage Technician: Larry Allen
Guitar and Synthesizer Maintenance: Tony Geranios
Stage Right Technician: Jim Johnson
Monitor Engineer: Stve Byron
Concert Projectionist: Lee Tenner
Minister-Without-Portfolio: Kevin Flewitt
Concert Sound by See Factor: Jim Staniforth, Bill Fertig, Jason Macrie, Mike Sinclair
Concert Lighting by See Factor: Ed Hyatt, Jack Funk, Roy Niendorf, Frank Scilingo, J.T. MacDonald, Mike King
Concert Rigging by Southfire Rigging: Billy Collins and Tim Wendt
Laser Images by Craig Sprede(r)man, Glen Tonsor, Phil Valdivia
Busheads and Truckfaces: Tom Whittaker, Pat Lynes, Billy Barlow, Mac and Candy MacLear, Red McBrine, Mike Nervi, Larry Cole and Dennis Cricket.

In memory of Harry Smith

Big Thank You's go around the world: At Elora Sound: Bill, Linda, and Joanne.
At the Manor: Lynne, Mike, Barney, Patsy, (don't bring) Lulu, Jenny, Ian, Paul, Mark, Peter, Frank and Mrs. P., and Willie and Bowzer.
In Montserrat: Matt, Yvonne, Malcolm, Paul, George, Desmond, Franklin, Carlton, Leroy, Doreen, Felena, Razor Willie, Bosun, Veston, Fosforus, Scoozball, the King of Antilles Television, and HRH King Lerxst.
At Sarm East: Jo, Dave, Heff, Paul, and Rockin' Dave.
In Japan: Mr. Udo, Tommy, Yoshi, Nori, Tets, Kaz, and Tomo.
In England: Peter Mensch and Su Wathan, David Mallet, Nikita's, Bill Churchman, Debbie Collins, Simon Honnor, Mr. Big and the Royal Jamaicans, Zino Davidoff, the Launching Pad, Peter, Jenny, and Joe Flemming, Wimblestein, Rockit Cargo and Fireball XL-5.
On the road: Gary Moore band and crew, Red Rider band and crew, Seaship Brokers, Big Al, and the ubiquitous B-Man.
On the mound: Smitty, Gully, Bo, and El Animal.
At home plate: Ray, Val, Pegi, Sheila, and Bob.
Brought to you by the letter "M".

And to the technical assistance of: The Music Shoppe (Thornhill), the Percussion Centre (Fort Wayne), Jim Burgess, Wal Basses, Dean Markley, Tama Drums, Avedis Zildjian cymbals, and - the Omega Concern.

A special tribute to our magnetic poles
The firm support and surprising patience
Of our families

That's a wrap!

© 1985 Mercury Records © 1985 Anthem Entertainment


"HOLD YOUR FIRE" Liner Notes

Geddy Lee: Bass guitar, synthesizers, bass pedals, vocals
Alex Lifeson: Electric and acoustic guitars
Neil Peart: Drums, percussion, and electronic percussion

Produced by Peter Collins and Rush
Engineered by Jimbo (James) Barton
Arrangements by Rush and Peter Collins

Recorded at The Manor, Oxfordshire assisted by Micheal Ade, Ridge Farm Studio, Surrey, assisted by Reynold Swan, Air studios, Montserrat, assisted by Ken Blair, McClear Place, Toronto, assisted by Martin Lee, and on the Lexst Mobile, assisted by Lerxst, between January and April 1987
Mixed at Guillaume Tell Studio, Paris, May 1987, assisté de Philip Cusset

Synthesizer programming assisted by Andy Richards and Jim Burgess
Additional keyboards by Andy Richards
Additional vocals by Aimee Mann, courtesy of Epic Records
Strings arranged and conducted by Steven Margoshes, recorded at McClear Place
The William Faerey Engineering Brass Band arranged and conducted by Andrew Jackman, recorded at Mirage Studio, Oldham, England
Preproduction work at Elora Sound, engineered by Jon Erickson

Mastered by Bob Ludwig and Brian Lee at Gateway Mastering Studios, Portland, Maine
Management by Ray Danniels, SRO Management, Inc., Toronto
Executive Production by Moon Records, Val Azzoli and Liam Birt

Art Direction by Hugh Syme
Photography by Glen Wexler
Urban Development by Scott Alexander, Patrick Johnson and Olivia Ramirez

Tour Manager and Lighting Director: Howard Ungerleider
President and Stage Manager: Liam Birt
Production Manager: Nick Kotos
Concert Sound Engineer: Jon Erickson
Stage Left Technician: Skip Gildersleeve
Centre Stage Technician: Larry Allen
Synthesizer Maintenance: Tony Geranios
Stage Right Technician: Jim Johnson
Stage Monitor Engineer: Steve Byron
Concert Projectionist: Lee Tenner
Personal Shreve: Kevin Flewitt
Carpenter (and Stage Right Assistant): George Steinert

Concert Sound by See Factor: Jim Staniforth, Bill Fertig, Tom Varaday, Harry Martinez
Concert Lighting by See Factor: Frank Scilingo, Jack Funk, Scott Maskin, Ethan Weber
Concert Rigging by Southfire Rigging, Billy Collins, Don Collins, C.J. Titterington III
Lasers by Laser Media, Craig Spredeman, Peter Callahan
Drivers: Tom Whittaker, Mac MacLear, Pat Lynes, Red McBrine, Earl Charles, Tom Mullins, John Mullins, Tom Hartman and Russell Fleming

"Nothing can survive in a vacuum"- and we would like to thank all those who have enriched our atmospheres: Bill, Linda, and Joanne at Elora Sound; Lynne, Mike, Michael, Ian, Jenni, Vicki, Julie, Flecky and Fruthy at The Manor; Frank, Ann, Ren, Fee, Laura, Tracy and Speedy at Ridge Farm; Yvonne, Malcolm, Ken, Frank, George, Franklin, Desmond, Lloyd, Leroy, Felena, Shirley and Danny in Montserrat; Bob, Martin, Tom, Hayward, Wendy and everyone at McClear Place, and Roland, Liouba, Paul, Alain, Cyril and Philip at Guillaume Tell. Elsewhere we have been aided and/or entertained by: the Steve Morse Band and crew, Jeff "Yankel" Berlin, Bill Churchman, Paul Fejdman, Flembo, Stade Roland Garros, International Herald Tribune, Rock-it Cargo, B. Zee Brokers, Warren Seyffert, Jeff Spinks, Rockin' F, Pee Wee's Playhouse, Princess Lynda Barry, The Senator, Macintosh Plus, the Gangster of Boats, the ever popular Scoozball, M. Joe (for continuing inspiration), Those Darn Fish, Patsy Cline, Roy Gevalt, The Big V, Luke Warm and all cowboys everywhere.
And perpetual thanks to our "support crew" at the Anthem Entertainment Group: Ray, Val, Sheila, Pegi, Lesley, Linda, Charlene, Bob and Cindy.

We gratefully acknowledge the technical assistance of Jim Burgess and "Saved By Technology," Wal Basses, Russ Heinl, Signature Guitars, The Percussion Center of Fort Wayne, Ludwig Drums, Avedis Zildjian Cymbals, Brisbin Brook Beynon Architects, and-

The Omega Concern.

© 1987 Mercury Records © 1987 Anthem Entertainment


"A SHOW OF HANDS (LIVE)" Liner Notes

Geddy Lee - bass guitar, synthesizers, vocals
Alex Lifeson - guitars, synthesizers, backing vocals
Neil Peart - acoustic and electronic percussion

Produced by Rush
Engineered by Paul Northfield

Recorded during the Hold Your Fire tour '88: Birmingham UK, New Orleans, Phoenix, and San Diego; and the Power Windows tour '86: Meadowlands, New Jersey.

Live recording by Le Mobile, assisted by Dave Roberts; and Advision Mobile, assisted by Gary Stewart and Peter Craigie. Engineered by Guy Charbonneau.
Executive Production by Val Azzoli.

Mixed at McClear Place Studios, Toronto, assisted by Rick Anderson
Mastered by Bob Ludwig and Brian Lee at Gateway Mastering Studios, Portland, Maine

Art Direction and Design by Hugh Syme
Photogarphy by Fin Costello and Dimo Safari
The Rockin' Constructivists created by John Halfpenny

The voice of Aimee Mann appears courtesy of Epic Records.

Management by Ray Danniels, SRO Management Inc., Toronto
Tour Manager and Lighting Director: Howard Ungerleider
President and Stage Manager: Liam Birt
Production Manager: Nick Kotos
Concert Sound Engineer: Jon Erickson
Stage Left Technician: Skip Gildersleeve
Centre Stage Technician: Larry Allen
Stage Right Technician: Jim Johnson
Synthesizer Care and Feeding: Tony Geranios
Stage Monitor Engineer: Steve Byron
Concert Projectionist: Lee Tenner
Personal Shreve: Kevin Flewitt
Carpenter (and Stage Right Assistant): George Steinert

Concert Sound by Audio Analysts; Michael Caron, Paul Parker, Dan Schriber and Mike Mule
Lighting and See Factor Inc; Frank Sciling, Jack Funk, Conrad Coriz, Roy Niendorf, Ethan Weber, Russell Sladek
Varilites: Matthew Druzbik, Daniel Koniar, Bill Snawder
Rear Screen Projections created by Keen Pitures, Norman Stangl
Concert Rigging by Myriad/One: Billy Collins, Don Collins, Tim Wendt, Bill Spoon
Lasers by Laser Media: Craig Spredeman; and Laserlite FX: Stev Magyar
Drivers: Tom Whittaker, Mac MacLear, John Davis, Daniel Harmer, Tom Hartman, Leonard Southwick, Bill Barlow, Rande Wolters, and Russell Fleming
Booking Agencies: International Creative Management, NYC, The Agency Group, London; The Agency, Toronto

For valuable and continuing technical assistance we would like to thank Jim Burgess and Saved By Technology, Wal basses, Signature guitars, Ludwig drums, Avedis Zildjian cymbals, Russ Heinl, and The Percussion Center, Fort Wayne.
And at SRO/Anthem: Wayner, Stu Gaatz, Pegi, Sheila, Kim, Evelyn, Bob, Cindy, Wall-Tor, Linda and Pat.

Dedicated to the memory of Sam Charters (Screvato)

© 1989 Mercury Records © 1989 Anthem Entertainment


Articles
  • Sectors Box Set (Review) - Classic Rock Presents: PROG Magazine, December 2011
  • Sectors Box Set (Review) - Sound and Vision Magazine, February 2012

  • Track Listing (click on any track for the lyrics)

    Disc 1 - SIGNALS
    1. Subdivisions (5:33)
    2. The Analog Kid (4:46)
    3. Chemistry (4:56)
    4. Digital Man (6:20)
    5. The Weapon (Part II of Fear) (6:22)
    6. New World Man (3:41)
    7. Losing It (4:51)
    8. Countdown (5:49)


    Disc 2 - GRACE UNDER PRESSURE
    1. Distant Early Warning (4:59)
    2. Afterimage (5:04)
    3. Red Sector A (5:10)
    4. The Enemy Within (Part I of Fear) (4:34)
    5. The Body Electric (5:00)
    6. Kid Gloves (4:18)
    7. Red Lenses (4:42)
    8. Between the Wheels (5:44)


    Disc 3 - POWER WINDOWS
    1. The Big Money (5:36)
    2. Grand Designs (5:05)
    3. Manhattan Project (5:05)
    4. Marathon (6:09)
    5. Territories (6:19)
    6. Middletown Dreams (5:15)
    7. Emotion Detector (5:10)
    8. Mystic Rhythms (5:54)


    Disc 4 - HOLD YOUR FIRE
    1. Force Ten (4:28)
    2. Time Stand Still (5:07)
    3. Open Secrets (5:37)
    4. Second Nature (4:35)
    5. Prime Mover (5:19)
    6. Lock and Key (5:08)
    7. Mission (5:15)
    8. Turn the Page (4:53)
    9. Tai Shan (4:14)
    10. High Water (5:32)


    Disc 5 - A SHOW OF HANDS (LIVE)
    1. Intro (0:53)
    2. The Big Money (5:52)
    3. Subdivisions (5:19)
    4. Marathon (6:32)
    5. Turn the Page (4:40)
    6. Manhattan Project (5:00)
    7. Mission (5:44)
    8. Distant Early Warning (5:18)
    9. Mystic Rhythms (5:32)
    10. Witch Hunt (Part III of Fear) (3:55)
    11. The Rhythm Method (drum solo 4:34)
    12. Force Ten (4:50)
    13. Time Stand Still (5:10)
    14. Red Sector A (5:12)
    15. Closer To The Heart (4:53)


    Subdivisions

    Sprawling on the fringes of the city
    In geometric order
    An insulated border
    In between the bright lights
    And the far unlit unknown

    Growing up it all seems so one-sided
    Opinions all provided
    The future pre-decided
    Detached and subdivided
    In the mass production zone

    Nowhere is the dreamer or the misfit so alone

    Subdivisions --
    In the high school halls
    In the shopping malls
    Conform or be cast out
    Subdivisions --
    In the basement bars
    In the backs of cars
    Be cool or be cast out
    Any escape might help to smooth
    The unattractive truth
    But the suburbs have no charms to soothe
    The restless dreams of youth

    Drawn like moths we drift into the city
    The timeless old attraction
    Cruising for the action
    Lit up like a firefly
    Just to feel the living night

    Some will sell their dreams for small desires
    Or lose the race to rats
    Get caught in ticking traps
    And start to dream of somewhere
    To relax their restless flight

    Somewhere out of a memory of lighted streets on quiet nights...


    The Analog Kid

    A hot and windy August afternoon
    Has the trees in constant motion
    With a flash of silver leaves
    As they're rocking in the breeze

    The boy lies in the grass with one blade
    Stuck between his teeth
    A vague sensation quickens
    In his young and restless heart
    And a bright and nameless vision
    Has him longing to depart

    You move me --
    You move me --
    With your buildings and your eyes
    Autumn woods and winter skies
    You move me --
    You move me --
    Open sea and city lights
    Busy streets and dizzy heights
    You call me --
    You call me --

    The fawn-eyed girl with sun-browned legs
    Dances on the edge of his dream
    And her voice rings in his ears
    Like the music of the spheres

    The boy lies in the grass, unmoving
    Staring at the sky
    His mother starts to call him
    As a hawk goes soaring by
    The boy pulls down his baseball cap
    And covers up his eyes

    Too many hands on my time
    Too many feelings --
    Too many things on my mind
    When I leave I don't know
    What I'm hoping to find
    When I leave I don't know
    What I'm leaving behind...


    Chemistry

    Signals transmitted
    Message received
    Reaction making impact --
    Invisibly

    Elemental telepathy
    Exchange of energy
    Reaction making contact --
    Mysteriously

    Eye to I
    Reaction burning hotter
    Two to one
    Reflection on the water
    H to O
    No flow without the other
    Oh but how
    Do they make contact
    With one another?

    Electricity? Biology?
    Seems to me it's Chemistry

    Emotion transmitted
    Emotion received
    Music in the abstract --
    Positively

    Elemental empathy
    A change of synergy
    Music making contact --
    Naturally

    One, two, three --
    Add without subtraction
    Sound on sound
    Multiplied reaction
    H to O
    No flow without the other
    Oh but how
    Do we make contact
    With one another?


    Digital Man

    His world is under observation --
    We monitor his station
    Under faces and the places
    Where he traces points of view

    He picks up scraps of conversation --
    Radio and radiation
    From the dancers and romancers
    With the answers -- but no clue

    He'd love to spend the night in Zion
    He's been a long while in Babylon
    He'd like a lover's wings to fly on
    To a tropic isle of Avalon

    His world is under anaesthetic --
    Subdivided and synthetic
    His reliance on the giants
    In the science of the day

    He picks up scraps of information --
    He's adept at adaptation
    'Cause for strangers and arrangers
    Constant change is here to stay

    He's got a force field and a flexible plan
    He's got a date with fate in a black sedan
    He plays fast forward for as long as he can
    But he won't need a bed --
    He's a digital man


    The Weapon (Part II of Fear)

    We've got nothing to fear -- but fear itself?
    Not pain or failure, not fatal tragedy?
    Not the faulty units in this mad machinery?
    Not the broken contacts in emotional chemistry?

    With an iron fist in a velvet glove
    We are sheltered under the gun
    In the glory game on the power train
    Thy kingdom's will be done

    And the things that we fear are a weapon to be held against us...

    He's not afraid of your judgement
    He knows of horrors worse than your Hell
    He's a little bit afraid of dying --
    But he's a lot more afraid of your lying

    And the things that he fears are a weapon to be held against him...

    Can any part of life -- be larger than life?
    Even love must be limited by time
    And those who push us down that they might climb --
    Is any killer worth more than his crime?

    Like a steely blade in a silken sheath
    We don't see what they're made of
    They shout about love, but when push comes to shove
    They live for the things they're afraid of

    And the knowledge that they fear is a weapon to be used against them...


    New World Man

    He's a rebel and a runner
    He's a signal turning green
    He's a restless young romantic
    Wants to run the big machine

    He's got a problem with his poisons
    But you know he'll find a cure
    He's cleaning up his systems
    To keep his nature pure

    Learning to match the beat of the Old World man
    Learning to catch the heat of the Third World man

    He's got to make his own mistakes
    And learn to mend the mess he makes
    He's old enough to know what's right
    But young enough not to choose it
    He's noble enough to win the world
    But weak enough to lose it --
    He's a New World man...

    He's a radio receiver
    Tuned to factories and farms
    He's a writer and arranger
    And a young boy bearing arms

    He's got a problem with his power
    With weapons on patrol
    He's got to walk a fine line
    And keep his self-control

    Trying to save the day for the Old World man
    Trying to pave the way for the Third World man

    He's not concerned with yesterday
    He knows constant change is here today
    He's noble enough to know what's right
    But weak enough not to choose it
    He's wise enough to win the world
    But fool enough to lose it --
    He's a New World man...


    Losing It

    The dancer slows her frantic pace
    In pain and desperation,
    Her aching limbs and downcast face
    Aglow with perspiration

    Stiff as wire, her lungs on fire,
    With just the briefest pause --
    The flooding through her memory,
    The echoes of old applause.

    She limps across the floor
    And closes her bedroom door...

    The writer stares with glassy eyes --
    Defies the empty page
    His beard is white, his face is lined
    And streaked with tears of rage.

    Thirty years ago, how the words would flow
    With passion and precision,
    But now his mind is dark and dulled
    By sickness and indecision

    And he stares out the kitchen door
    Where the sun will rise no more...

    Some are born to move the world --
    To live their fantasies
    But most of us just dream about
    The things we'd like to be

    Sadder still to watch it die
    Than never to have known it
    For you -- the blind who once could see --
    The bell tolls for thee...


    Countdown

    Lit up with anticipation
    We arrive at the launching site
    The sky is still dark, nearing dawn
    On the Florida coastline

    Circling choppers slash the night
    With roving searchlight beams
    This magic day when super-science
    Mingles with the bright stuff of dreams

    Floodlit in the hazy distance
    The star of this unearthly show
    Venting vapours, like the breath
    Of a sleeping white dragon

    Crackling speakers, voices tense
    Resume the final count
    All systems check, T minus nine
    As the sun and the drama start to mount

    The air is charged -- a humid, motionless mass
    The crowds and the cameras,
    The cars full of spectators pass
    Excitement so thick -- you could cut it with a knife
    Technology -- high, on the leading edge of life

    The earth beneath us starts to tremble
    With the spreading of a low black cloud
    A thunderous roar shakes the air
    Like the whole world exploding

    Scorching blast of golden fire
    As it slowly leaves the ground
    Tears away with a mighty force
    The air is shattered by the awesome sound

    Like a pillar of cloud, the smoke lingers
    High in the air
    In fascination -- with the eyes of the world
    We stare...


    Distant Early Warning

    An ill wind comes arising
    Across the cities of the plain
    There's no swimming in the heavy water --
    No singing in the acid rain
    Red alert
    Red alert

    It's so hard to stay together
    Passing through revolving doors
    We need someone to talk to
    And someone to sweep the floors --
    Incomplete
    Incomplete

    The world weighs on my shoulders
    But what am I to do?
    You sometimes drive me crazy --
    But I worry about you

    I know it makes on difference
    To what you're going through
    But I see the tip of the iceberg --
    And I worry about you...

    Cruising under your radar
    Watching from satellites
    Take a page from the red book --
    Keep them in your sights
    Red alert
    Red alert

    Left and rights of passage
    Black and whites of youth
    Who can face the knowledge
    That the truth is not the truth?
    Obsolete
    Absolute

    Absalom, Absalom, Absalom


    Afterimage

    Suddenly --
    You were gone
    From all the lives
    You left your mark upon

    I remember --
    How we talked and drank
    Into the misty dawn
    -- I hear the voices

    We ran by the water
    On the wet summer lawn
    -- I see the foot prints
    I remember --

    -- I feel the way you would
    -- I feel the way you would

    Tried to believe
    But you know it's no good
    This is something
    That just can't be understood

    I remember --
    The shouts of joy
    Skiing fast through the woods
    -- I hear the echoes

    I learned your love for life
    I feel the way that you would
    -- I feel your presence
    I remember --

    I feel the way you would
    This just can't be understood...


    Red Sector A

    All that we can do is just survive
    All that we can do to help ourselves is stay alive...

    Ragged lines of ragged grey
    Skeletons, they shuffle away
    Shouting guards and smoking guns
    Will cut down the unlucky ones

    I clutch the wire fence until my fingers bleed
    A wound that will not heal -- a heart that cannot feel --
    Hoping that the horror will recede
    Hoping that tomorrow, we'll all be freed

    Sickness to insanity
    Prayer to profanity
    Days and weeks and months go by
    Don't feel the hunger -- too weak to cry

    I hear the sound of gunfire at the prison gate
    Are the liberators here -- do I hope or do I fear?
    For my father and my brother, it's too late
    But I must help my mother stand up straight...

    Are we the last ones left alive?
    Are we the only human beings to survive?...


    The Enemy Within (Part I of Fear)

    Things crawl in the darkness
    That imagination spins
    Needles at your nerve ends
    Crawl like spiders on your skin

    Pounding in your temples
    And a surge of adrenaline
    Every muscle tense -- to fence the enemy within

    I'm not giving in to security under pressure
    I'm not missing out on the promise of adventure
    I'm not giving up on implausible dreams
    Experience to extremes --
    Experience to extremes

    Suspicious-looking stranger
    Flashes you a dangerous grin
    Shadows across your window --
    Was it only trees in the wind?

    Every breath a static charge --
    A tongue that tastes like tin
    Steely-eyed outside to hide the enemy within...

    To you -- is it movement or is it action?
    It is contact or just reaction?
    And you -- revolution or just resistance?
    Is it living, or just existence?
    eah, you -- it takes a little more persistence
    To get up and go the distance...


    The Body Electric

    One humanoid escapee
    One android on the run
    Seeking freedom beneath a lonely desert sun

    Trying to change its program
    Trying to change the mode -- crack the code
    Images conflicting into data overload

    1-0-0-1-0-0-1
    S.O.S
    1-0-0-1-0-0-1
    In distress
    1-0-0-1-0-0

    Memory banks unloading
    Bytes break into bits
    Unit One's in trouble and it's scared out of its wits

    Guidance systems break down
    A struggle to exist -- to resist
    A pulse of dying power in a clenching plastic fist...

    It replays each of the days
    A hundred years of routines
    Bows its head and prays
    To the mother of all machines...


    Kid Gloves

    A world of difference
    A world so out of touch
    Overwhelmed by everything
    But wanting more so much --

    Call it blind frustration
    Call it blind man's bluff
    Call each other names --
    Your voices rude -- your voices rough
    Then you learn the lesson
    That it's cool to be so tough

    Handle with kid gloves
    Handle with kid gloves
    Then you learn the lessons
    Taught in school won't be enough
    Put on your kid gloves
    Put on your kid gloves
    Then you learn the lesson
    That it's cool to be so tough

    A world of indifference
    Heads and hearts too full
    Careless of the consequence
    Of constant push and pull

    Anger got bare knuckles
    Anger play the fool
    Anger wear a crown of thorns
    Reverse the golden rule
    Then you learn the lesson
    That it's tough to be so cool

    Handle with kid gloves
    Handle with kid gloves
    Then you learn the weapons
    And the ways of hard-knock school
    Put on your kid gloves
    Put on your kid gloves
    Then you learn the lesson
    That it's tough to be so cool


    Red Lenses

    i see red
    it hurts my head
    guess it must be something
    that i read

    it's the colour of your heartbeat
    a rising summer sun
    the battle lost -- or won
    the flash to fashion
    and the pulse to passion --
    feels red
    inside my head
    and truth is often bitter --
    left unsaid
    said red red
    thinking about the overhead --
    the underfed
    -- couldn't we talk about something else instead?

    we've got mars on the horizon
    says the national midnight star
    (it's true)
    what you believe is what you are
    a pair of dancing shoes --
    the soviets are the blues --
    the reds
    under your bed
    lying --
    in the darkness
    dead ahead

    and the mercury is rising
    barometer starts to fall
    you know it gets to us all
    the pain that is learning
    and the rain that is burning --
    feel red
    still -- go ahead
    you see black and white --
    and i see red
    (not blue)


    Between the Wheels

    To live between a rock and a hard place
    In between time --
    Cruising in prime time -- soaking up the cathode rays

    To live between the wars in our time --
    Living in real time --
    Holding the good time -- Holding on to yesterdays...

    You know how that rabbit feels
    Going under your speeding wheels
    Bright images flashing by
    Like windshields towards a fly
    Frozen in the fatal climb -- but the wheels of time --
    Just pass you by...

    Wheels can take you around
    Wheels can cut you down

    We can go from boom to bust
    From dreams to a bowl of dust
    We can fall from rockets' red glare
    Down to "Brother can you spare --"
    Another war -- another waste land --
    And another lost generation...

    It slips between your hands like water
    This living in real time
    A dizzying lifetime
    Reeling by on celluloid

    Struck between the eyes
    By the big-time world
    Walking uneasy streets --
    Hiding beneath the sheets --
    Got to try and fill the void...


    The Big Money

    Big money goes around the world
    Big money underground
    Big money got a mighty voice
    Big money make no sound
    Big money pull a million strings
    Big money hold the prize
    Big money weave a mighty web
    Big money draw the flies

    Sometimes pushing people around
    Sometimes pulling out the rug
    Sometimes pushing all the buttons
    Sometimes pulling out the plug
    It's the power and the glory
    It's a war in paradise
    It's a cinderella story
    On a tumble of the dice

    Big money goes around the world
    Big money take a cruise
    Big money leave a mighty wake
    Big money leave a bruise
    Big money make a million dreams
    Big money spin big deals
    Big money make a mighty head
    Big money spin big wheels

    Sometimes building ivory towers
    Sometimes knocking castles down
    Sometimes building you a stairway --
    Lock you underground
    It's that old-time religion
    it's the kingdom they would rule
    It's the fool on television
    Getting paid to play the fool

    Big money goes around the world
    Big money give and take
    Big money done a power of good
    Big money make mistakes
    Big money got a heavy hand
    Big money take control
    Big money got a mean streak
    Big money got no soul...


    Grand Designs

    A to B --
    Different degrees...

    So much style without substance
    So much stuff without style
    It's hard to recognize the real thing
    It comes along once in a while
    Like a rare and precious metal beneath a ton of rock
    It takes some time and trouble to separate from the stock
    You sometimes have to listen to a lot of useless talk

    Shapes and forms against the norms --
    Against the run of the mill
    Swimming against the stream
    Life in two dimensions is a mass production scheme

    So much poison in power, the principles get left out
    So much mind on the matter, the spirit gets forgotten about
    Like a righteous inspiration overlooked in haste
    Like a teardrop in the ocean, a diamond in the waste
    Some world-views are spacious -- and some are merely spaced

    Against the run of the mill
    Static as it seems
    We break the surface tension with our wild kinetic dreams
    Curves and lines -- of grand designs...


    Manhattan Project

    Imagine a time when it all began
    In the dying days of a war
    A weapon -- that would settle the score
    Whoever found it first would be sure to do their worst --
    They always had before...

    Imagine a man where it all began
    A scientist pacing the floor
    In each nation -- always eager to explore
    To build the best big stick
    To turn the winning trick --
    But this was something more...

    The big bang -- took and shook the world
    Shot down the rising sun
    the end was begun -- it would hit everyone
    When the chain reaction was done
    The big shots -- try to hold it back
    Fools try to wish it away
    The hopeful depend on a world without end
    Whatever the hopeless may say

    Imagine a place where it all began
    They gathered from across the land
    To work in the secrecy of the desert sand
    All of the brightest boys
    To play with the biggest toys --
    More than they bargained for...

    Imagine a man when it all began
    The pilot of "Enola Gay"
    Flying out of the shockwave on that August day
    All the powers that be, and the course of history,
    Would be changed for evermore...


    Marathon

    It's not how fast you can go
    The force goes into the flow
    If you pick up the beat
    You can forget about the heat
    More than just survival
    More than just a flash
    More than just a dotted line
    More than just a dash

    It's a test of ultimate will
    The heartbreak climb uphill
    Got to pick up the pace
    If you want to stay in the race
    More than just blind ambition
    More than just simple greed
    More than just a finish line
    Must feed this burning need --
    In the long run...

    From first to last
    The peak is never passed
    Something always fires the light that gets in your eyes
    One moment's high, and glory rolls on by
    Like a streak of lightening that flashes and fades
    In the summer sky

    Your meters may overload
    You can rest at the side of the road
    You can miss a stride
    But nobody gets a free ride

    More than high performance
    More than just a spark
    More than just the bottom line
    Or a lucky shot in the dark --
    In the long run...

    You can do a lot in a lifetime
    If you don't burn out too fast
    You can make the most of the distance
    First you need endurance --
    First you've got to last...


    Territories

    I see the Middle Kingdom between Heaven and Earth
    Like the Chinese call the country of their birth
    We all figure that our homes are set above
    Other people than the ones we know and love
    In every place with a name
    They play the same territorial game
    Hiding behind the lines
    Sending up warning signs

    The whole wide world
    An endless universe
    Yet we keep looking through
    The eyeglass in reverse
    Don't feed the people
    But we feed the machines
    Can't really feel
    What international means
    In different circles, we keep holding our ground
    In different circles, we keep spinning round and round

    We see so many tribes -- overrun and undermined
    While their invaders dream of lands they've left behind
    Better people -- better food -- and better beer
    Why move around the world when Eden was so near?
    The bosses get talking so tough
    And if that wasn't evil enough
    We get the drunken and passionate pride
    Of the citizens along for the ride

    They shoot without shame
    In the name of a piece of dirt
    For a change of accent
    Or the colour of your shirt
    Better the pride that resides
    In a citizen of the world
    Than the pride that divides
    When a colourful rag is unfurled


    Middletown Dreams

    The office door closed early
    The hidden bottle came out
    The salesman turned to close the blinds
    A little slow now, a little stout
    But he's still heading down those tracks
    Any day now for sure
    Another day as drab as today
    Is more than a man can endure

    Dreams flow across the heartland
    Feeding on the fires
    Dreams transport desires
    Drive you when you're down --
    Dreams transport the ones who need to get out of town

    the boy walks with his best friend
    Through the fields of early May
    They walk awhile in silence
    One close -- one far away
    But he'd be climbing on that bus
    Just him and his guitar
    To blaze across the heavens
    Like a brilliant shooting star

    The middle-aged madonna
    Calls her neighbour on the phone
    Day by day the seasons pass
    And leave her life alone
    But she'll go walking out that door
    On some bright afternoon
    To go and paint big cities
    From a lonely attic room

    It's understood
    By every single person
    Who'd be elsewhere if they could
    So far so good
    And life's not unpleasant
    In their little neighbourhood

    They dream in Middletown...


    Emotion Detector

    When we lift the covers from our feelings
    We expose our insecure spots
    Trust is just as rare as devotion--
    Forgive us our cynical thoughts
    If we need too much attention --
    Not content with being cool
    We must throw ourselves wide open
    And start acting like a fool
    If we need too much approval
    Then the cuts can seem too cruel

    Right to the heart of the matter
    Right to the beautiful part
    Illusions are painfully shattered
    Right where discovery starts
    In the secret wells of emotion
    Buried deep in our hearts

    It's true that love can change us
    But never quite enough
    Sometimes we are too tender
    Sometimes we're too tough
    If we get too much attention
    It gets hard to overrule
    So often fragile power turns
    To scorn and ridicule
    Sometimes our big splashes
    Are just ripples in the pool

    Feelings run high


    Mystic Rhythms

    So many things I think about
    When I look far away
    Things I know -- things I wonder
    Things I'd like to say
    The more we think we know about
    The greater the unknown
    We suspend our disbelief
    And we are not alone --

    Mystic rhythms -- capture my thoughts
    And carry them away
    Mysteries of night escape the light of day
    Mystic rhythms -- under northern lights
    Or the African sun
    Primitive things stir
    The hearts of everyone

    We sometimes catch a window
    A glimpse of what's beyond
    Was it just imagination
    Stringing us along?
    More things than are dreamed about
    Unseen and unexplained
    We suspend our disbelief
    And we are entertained

    Mystic rhythms -- capture my thoughts
    And carry them away
    Nature seems to spin
    A supernatural way
    Mystic rhythms -- under city lights
    Or a canopy of stars
    We feel the powers and we wonder what they are
    We feel the push and pull of restless rhythms from afar


    Force Ten

    Tough times demand tough talk
    demand tough hearts demand tough songs
    demand --

    We can rise and fall like empires
    Flow in and out like the tide
    Be vain and smart, humble and dumb
    We can hit and miss like pride

    We can circle around like hurricanes
    Dance and dream like lovers
    Attack the day like birds of prey
    Or scavengers under cover

    Look in -- to the eye of the storm
    Look out -- for the force without form
    Look around -- at the sight and the sound
    Look in look out look around --

    We can move with savage grace
    To the rhythms of the night
    Cool and remote like dancing girls
    In the heat of the beat and the lights

    We can wear the rose of romance
    An air of joie de vivre
    Too-tender hearts upon our sleeves
    Or skin as thick as thieves'

    rising falling at force ten
    we twist the world and ride the wind

    Look in -- look the storm in the eye
    Look out -- to the sea and the sky
    Look around -- at the sight and the sound
    Look in look out look around --


    Time Stand Still

    I turn my back to the wind
    To catch my breath,
    Before I start off again.
    Driven on without a moment to spend
    To pass an evening with a drink and a friend

    I let my skin get too thin
    I'd like to pause.
    No matter what I pretend
    Like some pilgrim --
    Who learns to transcend --
    Learns to live
    As if each step was the end

    Time stand still -- I'm not looking back
    But I want to look around me now
    See more of the people and the places that surround me now

    Freeze this moment a little bit longer
    Make each sensation a little bit stronger
    Experience slips away...

    I turn my face to the sun
    Close my eyes.
    Let my defences down --
    All those wounds that I can't get unwound

    I let my past go too fast
    No time to pause --
    If I could slow it all down
    Like some captain, whose ship runs aground --
    I can wait until the tide comes around

    Make each impression a little bit stronger
    Freeze this motion a little bit longer
    The innocence slips away...

    Summer's going fast, nights growing colder
    Children growing up -- old friends growing older
    Experience slips away...


    Open Secrets

    It went right by me --
    At the time it went over my head
    I was looking out the window
    I should have looked at your face instead

    It went right by me --
    Just another wall
    There should have been a moment
    When we let our barriers fall
    I never meant what you're thinking --
    That is not what I meant at all...

    Well I guess we all have these feelings
    We can't leave unreconciled
    Some of them burned on our ceilings
    Some of them learned as a child

    The things that we're concealing
    Will never let us grow
    Time will do its healing
    You've got to let it go

    Closed for my protection --
    Open to your scorn
    Between these two directions
    My heart is sometimes torn

    I lie awake with my secrets
    spinning around my head
    something that somehow escaped me --
    Something you shouldn't have said
    I was looking out the window
    I should have looked at your face instead...

    I find no absolution
    In my rational point of view
    Maybe some things are instinctive
    But there's one thing you could do
    You could try to understand me --
    I could try to understand you...


    Second Nature

    A memo to a higher office
    Open letter to the powers-that-be
    To a God, a king, a head of state
    A captain of industry
    To the movers and the shakers --
    Can't everybody see?

    It ought to be second nature --
    I mean, the places where we live!
    Let's talk about this sensibly --
    We're not insensitive
    I know progress has no patience --
    But something's got to give

    I know you're different --
    You know I'm the same
    We're both too busy
    To be taking the blame
    I'd like some changes
    But you don't have the time
    We can't go on thinking
    It's a victimless crime
    No one is blameless
    But we're all without shame
    We fight the fire -- while we're feeding the flames

    Folks have got to make choices --
    And choices got to have voices
    Folks are basically decent
    Conventional wisdom would say
    Well, we read about the exceptions
    In the papers every day

    It ought to be second nature --
    At least, that's what I feel
    "Now I lay me down in Dreamland" --
    I know perfect's not for real
    I thought we might get closer --
    But I'm ready to make a deal

    Today is different, and tomorrow the same
    It's hard to take the world the way that it came
    Too many rapids keep us sweeping along
    Too many captains keep on steering us wrong
    It's hard to take the heat --
    It's hard to lay blame
    To fight the fire -- while we're feeding the flames


    Prime Mover

    Basic elemental instinct to survive
    Stirs the higher passions
    Thrill to be alive

    Alternating currents in a tidewater surge
    Rational resistance to an unwise urge
    (anything can happen)

    From the point of conception
    To the moment of Truth
    At the point of surrender
    To the burden of proof

    From the point of ignition
    To the final drive
    The point of the journey is not to arrive
    (anything can happen)

    Basic temperamental filters on our eyes
    Alter our perceptions
    Lenses polarize

    Alternating currents force a show of hands
    Rational responses force a change of plans
    (anything can happen)

    From a point on the compass
    To magnetic north
    The point of the needle moving back and forth

    From the point of entry --
    Until the candle is burned
    The point of departure is not to return
    (anything can happen)

    I set the wheels in motion
    turn up all the machines
    activate the programs
    and run behind the scene

    I set the clouds in motion
    turn up light and sound
    activate the window
    and watch the world go 'round --
    (anything can happen)


    Lock and Key

    I don't want to face the killer instinct --
    Face it in your or me

    We carry a sensitive cargo
    Below the waterline --
    Ticking like a time bomb
    With a primitive design

    Behind the finer feelings --
    This civilized veneer --
    The heart of a lonely hunter
    Guards a dangerous frontier

    The balance can sometimes fail --
    Strong emotions can tip the scale --

    Don't want to silence a desperate voice
    For the sake of security
    No one wants to make a terrible choice
    On the price of being free
    I don't want to face the killer instinct -- face it in you or me
    So we keep it under lock and key...

    It's not a matter of mercy
    It's not a matter of laws
    Plenty of people will kill you for some fanatical cause

    It's not a matter of conscience --
    A search for probable cause
    It's just a matter of instinct -- a matter of fatal flaws

    No reward for resistance
    No assistance -- no applause...

    we don't want to be victims
    on that we all agree, so we lock up the killer instinct --
    and throw away the key...


    Mission

    Hold your fire --
    Keep it burning bright
    Hold the flame 'til the dream ignites --
    A spirit with a vision is a dream with a mission

    I hear their passionate music
    Read the words that touch my heart
    I gaze at their feverish pictures
    The secrets that set them apart

    When I feel the powerful visions
    Their fire has made alive
    I wish I had that instinct -- I wish I had that drive

    Spirits fly on dangerous missions
    Imaginations on fire
    Focused high on soaring ambitions
    Consumed in a single desire

    In the grip of a nameless possession --
    A slave to the drive of obsession --
    A spirit with a vision is a dream with a mission...

    I watch their images flicker
    Bringing light to a lifeless screen
    I walk through their beautiful buildings
    And I wish I had their dreams

    But dreams don't need to have motion
    To keep their spark alive
    Obsession has to have action --
    Pride turns on the drive

    It's cold comfort
    To the ones without it
    To know how they struggled --
    How they suffered about it

    If their lives were exotic and strange
    They would likely have gladly exchanged them
    For something a little more plain
    Maybe something a little more sane

    We each pay a fabulous price
    For our visions of paradise
    But a spirit with a vision is a dream with a mission...


    Turn the Page

    Nothing can survive in a vacuum
    No one can exists all alone
    We pretend things only happen to strangers
    We've all got problems of our own

    It's enough to learn to share our pleasures
    We can't sooth pain with sympathy
    All that we can do is be reminded --
    We shake our heads at the tragedy

    Every day we're standing in a time capsule
    Racing down a river from the past
    Every day we're standing in a wind tunnel
    Facing down the future coming fast

    It's just the age
    It's just a stage --
    We disengage -- We turn the page...

    Looking at the long-range forecast
    Catching all the names in the news
    Checking out the state of the nation
    Learning the environmental blues

    Truth is after all a moving target
    Hairs to split, and pieces that don't fit
    How can anybody be enlightened?
    Truth is after all so poorly lit


    Tai Shan

    High on the sacred mountain
    Up the seven thousand stairs
    In the golden light of autumn
    There was magic in the air

    Clouds surrounded the summit
    The wind blew strong and cold
    Among the silent temples
    And the writing carved in gold
    Somewhere in my instincts
    The primitive took hold...

    I stood at the top of the mountain
    And China sang to me
    In the peaceful haze of harvest time
    A song of eternity --

    If you raise your hands to heaven
    You will live a hundred years
    I stood there like a mystic
    Lost in the atmosphere

    The clouds were suddenly parted
    For a moment I could see
    The patterns of the landscape
    Reaching to the eastern sea
    I looked upon a presence
    Spanning forty centuries...

    I thought of time and distance
    The hardships of history
    I heard the hope and the hunger
    When China sang to me...


    High Water

    When the waters rose in the darkness
    In the wake of the endless flood
    It flowed into our memory -- it flowed into our blood

    When something broke the surface
    Just to see the starry dome --
    We still feel that relation
    When the water takes us home
    In the flying spray of the ocean
    The water takes you home --

    Springing from the weight of the mountains
    Like the heart of the earth would burst
    Flowing out from marble fountains
    In the dreams of a desert thirst

    Something swam through the jungles
    Where the mighty rivers roam --
    Something breaks the silence
    When the water takes you home
    I hear the wordless voices
    When the water takes me home --

    Waves that crash on the shoreline
    Torrents of tropical rain streaming down
    Beyond our memory
    Streaming down inside our veins

    When something left the ocean
    To crawl high above the foam --
    We still feel that elation
    When the water takes us home
    In a driving rain of redemption
    The water takes me home...