@migu music@

Hanging In The Gallery - Strawbs

Is it the painter

Or the picture hanging in the gallery

Admired by countless thousands

Who attempt to read the secrets

Of his vision of his very soul

Is it the painter

Or the picture hanging in the gallery

Or is it but a still life of his own interpretation

Of the way that

God had made us in the image of His eye

Is it the sculptor or the sculpture standing in the gallery

Touched by fleeting strangers

Who desire to feel the strength of hands

That realised a form of life

Is it the sculptor or the sculpture standing in the gallery

Or is it but the tenderness with

Which his hands were guided

To discard the unessentials

And reveal the perfect truth

Is it the actor or the drama playing to the gallery

Heard in every corner of the theatre of cruelty

That masks the humour in his speech

Is it the actor or the drama playing to the gallery

Or is it but the character of

Any single member of the audience

That forms the plot of each and every play

Is it the singer or his likeness hanging in the gallery

Tongue black still and swollen

His eyes staring from their sockets

He is silent now will sing no more

Is it the singer or his likeness hanging in the gallery

Or is it but his conscience

Insecurity and loneliness

When destiny becomes at last the

'Cause of his demise