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Oh I remember well - music you could taste and smell,

Now you could grab it all for free on lousy mp3,

'twas long time ago they played with their soul,

They play like they mean it and

Back then you could feel it, yeah!

Brain salad surgery - close to the edge!

Guess what I found in the attic today,

A big wooden box, locked with rusty lock.

Some rustic stuff, a wicked strange device,

And a bag of green kinda spice.

Each record was a shrine,

The soundtrack of our lives,

It's great to bring those memories

Back from time to time.

Each song a journey for our soul,

Every metaphor reborn,

Left for us to be revealed,

And called our own, our own.

The piper at the gates of dawn -

Selling England by the pound!

That's what I found in the attic today,

A big wooden box, I broke down the lock,

The table's turned and mystery's unfurled

Welcome to the crackling world.

And as you join the deafening noise

Get goose bumps from that raspy voice,

Along with your hunger for exploration,

The feeling that one cannot tell

You have to feel it for yourself,

And testify the bliss and revelation!

Come taste the band -

IN the court of the crimson king!