Syd Barrett Dies after 60 trips around the sun.
"So equally over a valley, a hill
wood on quarry stood, each of us crying
a velvet curtain of gray
mark the blanket where the sparrows play
and the trees by the waving corn stranded
my legs move the last empty inches to you
the softness, the warmth from the weather in suspense
mote to a grog - the star a white chalk
minds shot together, our minds shot together..." SB
3 Comments:
brilliant, brilliant words from a brilliant man.
my eldest daughter is named after one of his songs.
he isn't really dead is he? he can only just be 60.
in all my turns at singing into the microphone, nothing ever came close to harmonizing on a great round of terrapin or baby lemonade.
We tripped the Night Fandango,
Did Cartwheels across the sun
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