The Awakening

I would rather the fire storms of atmospheres

Than this cruel descent from a thousand years

Of dreams, into the starkness of the capsule.Where two of our crew still lay suspended cool

In their tombs of sleep.Those nagging choirs of memory

The tubes and wires

Worming from their flesh to machinery

I would have to cut

Such midwifery is but one function of the leader hereFloating in a sac of fluid dark

A clear century of space

Away from Earth

While one man stares from the trauma of his birth

Attending to the hypno-tapes

Assuring him

That this was reality

However grim

Songwriters

Calvert, Robert NewtonPublished by

Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.