Knife-Edge
Carl Palmer / Keith Emerson
Just a step, cried the sad man
Take a look down at the madman
Bearded kings on silver wings
Fly beyond reason
From the flight of the seagull
Come the spread claws of the eagle
Only fear breaks the silence
As we all kneel, pray for guidance
Tread the room, cross the abyss
Take a look down at the madness
On the streets of the city
Only spectres still have pity
Patient queues for the gallows
Sing the praises of the hallows
Our machines feed the furnace
If they take us, they will burn us
Will you still know who you are
When you come to who you are?
When the flames have their season
Will you hold to your reason?
Will you die with your chance?
Can you still keep your balance?
Can you live for a knife edge?