WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY: Wish you Were Here, by Pink Floyd
WISH YOU WERE HERE
So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell? Blue skies from pain? Can you tell a green field, from a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil? Do you think you can tell? And did they get you trade, your heroes for ghosts? Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze? Cold comfort for change? And did you exchange a walk on part in the war, for a lead role in a cage? How I wish, how I wish you were here. We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year, running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears, wish you were here.
