Progrock

Perfector
  • Perfector
  • My Epic
  • Yet
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“Perfector” - My Epic

In light of the recent tsunami. Keep Japan in your prayers, and keep safe on the west coast.


I’m still a young man so I think very little of death, but who really does till it’s coming for them? And I know with each breath I come one closer, but death is just a hook behind the door where I’ll leave my dirty clothes….

They may dump my body in the sea or  spread my ashes miles wide, but it won’t matter, all my parts will realign. They will rush to find each other when they hear their Lover’s cry and death will be abandoned when He comes back for His bride!

Saints are never buried, they are seeds planted who bring about a greater harvest when they burst forth from the earth that needed their fruits, but it could never hope to make enough room for their roots.

Death is swallowed up, it owns nothing in me! Oh, death is swallowed up, it owns nothing in me!

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His faithful ones!
Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His faithful ones! Oh, death is swallowed up!

Oh, it was always You! It was always You! Oh, it was always You! It was always You!
Oh, it was always You! It was always You! Oh, it was always You! It was always You!
Oh, it was always You! It was always You!

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One of my favourites. Painting by David Hardy ‘Metal World’ (1974). Music: King Crimson - In the Court of the Crimson King #scifiart #sciencefictionart #sciencefiction #Scifi #alienworlds #future #Painting #art #space #cosmos #music #kingcrimson #progrock

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  • A Dream Within a Dream
  • Alan Parsons Project
  • Tales of Mystery and Imagination
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A Dream Witihin A Dream - Alan Parsons Project


“For my own part, I have never had a thought which I could not set down in words with even more distinctness than that with which I conceived it.
There is, however, a class of fancies of exquisite delicacy which are not thoughts, and to which as yet I have found it absolutely impossible to adapt to language. These fancies arise in the soul, alas how rarely.
Only at epochs of most intense tranquillity, when the bodily and mental health are in perfection. And at those weird points of time, where the confines of the waking world blend with the world of dreams. And so I captured this fancy, where all that we see, or seem, is but a dream within a dream.”