From Larks' Tongues in Aspic (1973) by King Crimson

Larks' Tongues in Aspic, Pt. 1 (Bruford/Cross/Fripp/Muir/Palmer-James/Wetton) - 13:36

Instrumental

Book of Saturday (Fripp/Palmer-James/Wetton) - 2:56

If I only could deceive you
Forgetting the game
Every time I try to leave you
You laught just the same

'Cause my wheels never touch the road
And the jumble of lies we told
Just returns to my back to weigh me down...

We lay cards upon the table
The backs of our hands
And I swear I like your people
The boys in the band

Reminiscences gone astray
Coming back to enjoy the fray
In a tangle of night and daylight sounds...

All completeness in the morning
Asleep on your side
I'll be waking up the crewmen
Banana-boat ride

She responds like a limousine
Brought alive on the silent screen
To the shuddering breath of yesterday...

There's the succour of the needy
Incredible scenes
I'll believe you in the future
Your life and death dreams

As the cavalry of despair
Takes a stand in the lady's hair
For the favour of making sweet sixteen...

You make my life and times
A book of bluesy Saturdays
And I have to choose...

Exiles (Cross/Fripp/Palmer-James) - 7:42

Now...in this faraway land
Strange...that the palms of my hands
Should be damp with expectancy

Spring... and the air's turning mild
City lights... and the glimpse of a child
Of the alleyway infantry

Friends... do they know what I mean
Rain... and the gathering green
Of an afternoon out-of-town

But Lord I had to go
My trail was laid too slow behind me
To face the call of fame
Or make a drunkard's name for me
Though now this other life
Has brought a different understanding
And from these endless days
Shall come a broader sympathy
And though I count the hours
To be alone's injury...

My home... was a place near the sand
Cliffs... and a military band
Blew an air of normality

Easy Money (Fripp/Palmer-James/Wetton) - 7:53

Your admirers on the street
Gotta hoot and stamp their feet
In the heat from your physique
As you twinkle by in moccasin sneakers

And I thought my heart would break
When you doubled up the stake
With your fingers all a shake
You could never teel a winner from a snake
But you always make money

Easy money

With your figure and your face
Strutting out at every race
Throw a glass around the place
Show the colour of your crimson suspenders

We would take the money home
Sit around the family throne
My old dog could chew his bone
For two weeks we could appease the Almighty

Easy money

Your admirers on the street
Gotta hoot and stamp their feet
In the heat from your physique
As you twinkle by in moccasin sneakers

Got no truck with the la-di-da
Keep my bread in an old fruit jar
Drive you out in a motor-car
Getting fat on your lucky star just making

Easy money

The Talking Drum (Bruford/Cross/Fripp/Muir/Wetton) - 7:26

Instrumental

Larks' Tongues in Aspic, Pt. 2 (Fripp/Palmer-James) - 7:09

Instrumental