0:009:30
Musik: Achim Susbauer und Roland Enders
Text: Richard Bellinghausen
Achim: Lead Vocals, Background Vocals, akustische Gitarre
Richard: Lead Vocals, Background Vocals
Roland: elektrische und akustische Gitarren, Keyboards, KB-Drums und KB-Bass, Background Vocals
Hiltrud: Background Vocals
Text: Richard Bellinghausen
Achim: Lead Vocals, Background Vocals, akustische Gitarre
Richard: Lead Vocals, Background Vocals
Roland: elektrische und akustische Gitarren, Keyboards, KB-Drums und KB-Bass, Background Vocals
Hiltrud: Background Vocals
Pt. 1 – Harmony Garden
Behind a hedge in Staplehurst
My room of contemplation lies
Unlawfully intruding here
When nine to five is done
Feel so calm and inspired
On this bench of wrought iron
Marble statuettes awake each night
Shelley and Lord Byron who recite
From each other's poetry
A widowed lady owns this place
Imelda Peacock is her name
I've seen her twice at All Saints' Church
A high-born socialite
Eye-shaped patterns on her dress
And a weakness of the flesh
The pavilion still in half-light
'Perle d'Azur' climbs the wall
While the only sound's a robin's call
Till the fountain comes to life again, ooh
Gives fair warning that the lady's in
Pt. 2 – Damocles Monday
On Monday morning when the sword of Damocles is looming large
Rush to the capital where architects of crisis are in charge
I'm an insurance broker dabbling where nobody's ever sure
For this consumerism there's no medicine, no easy cure
You fight a cage of lions to please voracious clients
It's such a hustle and a bustle in the city
Down in the tube you're trembling,
your front teeth might get kicked in
We're breeding morons at a record-breaking rate right now
Persistent trouble 'cause your boss acts like an egocentric fool
There's mischief in the mail from lawyers
who have barely finished school
What once was serious business now feels like the adult industry
Don't need no aliens, the humanoids are strange enough for me
A flood of cash advances, cocaine and brain enhancers
The chatterboxes with their cell phones drive you crazy
Most every other evening the smog's too dense for breathing
To catch the train from Charing Cross you need some flying feet
Is anybody watching me beside the secret door?
The pale commuter seeking peace is sneaking in once more
Pt. 3 – The Spyglass
Brought a drop of pink sparkling wine here last night
Now a polished mug sits upon an embroidered linen napkin
Never till today did I peek through her window frame
Resting on a tripod a spyglass is pointing where
I used to linger with a thought to spare
Imelda, be kind!
Venus and Mars are aligned
Behind a hedge in Staplehurst
My room of contemplation lies
Unlawfully intruding here
When nine to five is done
Feel so calm and inspired
On this bench of wrought iron
Marble statuettes awake each night
Shelley and Lord Byron who recite
From each other's poetry
A widowed lady owns this place
Imelda Peacock is her name
I've seen her twice at All Saints' Church
A high-born socialite
Eye-shaped patterns on her dress
And a weakness of the flesh
The pavilion still in half-light
'Perle d'Azur' climbs the wall
While the only sound's a robin's call
Till the fountain comes to life again, ooh
Gives fair warning that the lady's in
Pt. 2 – Damocles Monday
On Monday morning when the sword of Damocles is looming large
Rush to the capital where architects of crisis are in charge
I'm an insurance broker dabbling where nobody's ever sure
For this consumerism there's no medicine, no easy cure
You fight a cage of lions to please voracious clients
It's such a hustle and a bustle in the city
Down in the tube you're trembling,
your front teeth might get kicked in
We're breeding morons at a record-breaking rate right now
Persistent trouble 'cause your boss acts like an egocentric fool
There's mischief in the mail from lawyers
who have barely finished school
What once was serious business now feels like the adult industry
Don't need no aliens, the humanoids are strange enough for me
A flood of cash advances, cocaine and brain enhancers
The chatterboxes with their cell phones drive you crazy
Most every other evening the smog's too dense for breathing
To catch the train from Charing Cross you need some flying feet
Is anybody watching me beside the secret door?
The pale commuter seeking peace is sneaking in once more
Pt. 3 – The Spyglass
Brought a drop of pink sparkling wine here last night
Now a polished mug sits upon an embroidered linen napkin
Never till today did I peek through her window frame
Resting on a tripod a spyglass is pointing where
I used to linger with a thought to spare
Imelda, be kind!
Venus and Mars are aligned