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Anthony Phillips




Anthony Phillips Album


Private Parts & Pieces II: Back To The Pavilion (1980)
1980
1.
Scottish Suite
2.
Lindsay
3.
K2
4.
Postlude: End Of The Season
5.
Heavens
6.
Spring Meeting
7.
Romany's Aria
8.
Chinaman
9.
Nocturne
10.
Magic Garden
11.
Von Runkel's Yorker Music
12.
Will O' The Wisp
13.
Tremulous
14.
15.
Back To The Pavilion
16.
Lucy: An Illusion (CD extra track)
. . .

Scottish Suite

[No lyrics]

. . .

Lindsay

[No lyrics]

. . .

K2

[No lyrics]

. . .

Postlude: End Of The Season

[No lyrics]

. . .

Heavens

[No lyrics]

. . .

Spring Meeting

[No lyrics]

. . .

Romany's Aria

[No lyrics]

. . .

Chinaman

[No lyrics]

. . .

Nocturne

[No lyrics]

. . .

Magic Garden

[No lyrics]

. . .

Von Runkel's Yorker Music

[No lyrics]

. . .

Will O' The Wisp

[No lyrics]

. . .

Tremulous

[No lyrics]

. . .


I saw you today
And, through the distant years,
It all came back.

Two people, young and sheltered,
So unwary of the snares
We now know well.

You're now a woman
But still brown and very beautiful,
You haven't changed.

She took your place – oh, what a face,
Didn't think I needed you
But I was wrong.

She came and she went out
Upon a voyage, it seems
She's never coming back

For now you both are gone
It seems so long ago I was a
Happy man.

I saw you today
It didn't seem as if
You're coming back.

I saw myself today
It didn't seem as if
I'm coming back.

And lo upon the hills
I see a shadow pass
To the other side –
We must accept these things.

Oh, how I love you.
Oh, how I love you.

. . .

Back To The Pavilion

[No lyrics]

. . .


Now, now as the sun climbs the hills,
Softly she skips on the sand,
Daughter of the breeze
Free, like the swifts of the sky, I see her,
Dim, through the panes of my tears, I see her,
Then she is here, mine, always around me –
Mine till the morning mist comes.

Now, now that the evening must fall,
Weary, she sits by the river,
Kind winds toss her hair,
Free, like the swifts of the sky, I see her,
Dim, through the panes of the tears, I see her.

Then she is here, mine, always around me.
Her warm touch, glad to have found me.
Day-long – walking my kingdom,
Her soft smile speaking of freedom.

Now, now that the evening has gone,
Deep in a slumber she lies,
Golden hair to touch,
Free, like the swifts of the sky, I see her.
Dim, through the panes of my tears, I see her,
Then she's no more than just an illusion,
Mine till the morning mist comes.

. . .


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