The Court of the Crimson King (revised)

The Earth is captive to the moon
Some seek the rising sun
I walk the road on wings of change
The game has just begun.
The purple piper plays his tune
The choir softly sing
Three lullabies in an ancient tounge
For the court of the crimson king

The burned-tarred-ash suburban men
Put shudders on the dreams
I wait outside the pilgrims door
With insufficient schemes
The Black Queen chants the funeral march
The cracked brass bells will ring
To summon back the fire-witch
To the court of the Crimson King

The gardener plants an evergreen
Whilst trampling on a flower
I chased the wind of a prism ship
To taste the sweet and sour,
The pattern juggler lifts his hand
The orchestra begin
As frogs fly from the grinding wheel,
In the court of the crimson king