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Дэвид Боуи Дэвид БоуиРок исполнитель, актер, художник

Memory Of A Free Festival

The Children of the summer's end

Gathered in the dampened grass,

We played Our songs and felt the London sky

Resting on our Hands.

It was God's land.

It was rugged and naive.

It was Heaven.



Touch,We touched the very soul

Of holding each and every life.

We claimed the very source of joy ran through.

It didn't,but it seemed that way.

I kissed a lot of people that day.



Oh,to capture just one drop of all the ecstasy that swept that afternoon

To paint that love upon a white balloon,

And fly it from the toppest top of all the tops that man has pushed beyond his

brain.

Satori must be something just the same.



We scanned the skies with rainbow eyes and saw machines of every shape and size

We talked with tall Venusians passing through.

And Peter tried to climb aboard but the Captain shook his head

And away they soared,

Climbing through the ivory vibrant cloud.

Someone passed some bliss among the crowd.

And We walked back to the road,unchained.



"The Sun Machine is Coming Down,and We're Gonna Have a Party."

"The Sun Machine is Coming Down,and We're Gonna Have a Party."

"The Sun Machine is Coming Down,and We're Gonna Have a Party."

"The Sun Machine is Coming Down,and We're Gonna Have a Party."

"The Sun Machine is Coming Down,and We're Gonna Have a Party

Дэвид Боуи

Memory Of A Free Festival / Дэвид Боуи

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