Tekst:
Rush Retrospective

A modern day warrior Mean, mean stride Today's Tom Sawyer Mean, mean pride Though his mind is not for rent Don't put him down as arrogant His reserve

Big money goes around the world Big money underground Big money got a mighty voice Big money make no sound Big money pull a million strings Big money

An ill wind comes arising Across the cities of the plain There's no swimming in the heavy water No singing in the acid rain Red alert, red alert It's

My uncle has a country place that no one knows about He says it used to be a farm before the Motor Law And on Sundays, I elude the eyes, hop the turbine

On certain nights When the angles are right And the moon is A slender crescent It's circle shows In a ghostly glow Of earthly luminescence Earthshine

A certain measure of innocence Willing to appear naive A certain degree of imagination A measure of make-believe A certain degree of surrender To the

: There is unrest in the forest, There is trouble with the trees, For the maples want more sunlight And the oaks ignore their pleas. The trouble

: There are those who think that life has nothing left to chance, A host of holy horrors to direct our aimless dance. A planet of playthings, We

: "To seek the sacred river Alph To walk the caves of ice To break my fast on honey dew And drink the milk of Paradise..." I had heard the whispered