We are lepers

[C]

You don't know us. In fact this whole community don't want you to know us.
We are lepers. We are being shunned so, in turn, we shun them. We are the children in the attic. We are the eternal hibernators, shunning the daylight. We are being mocked, spat at, abused, all gathered here and thrown in this deep, deep well. Our hideous, disfigured bodies do not function, yet our centuries-old sharp minds are timeless. We are the Mystics, shamen of progressive music, wearers of capes, worship the Moog as a tabernacle and tub-thumpers are our saviours. We pray to the Power Of Yes and read the chapters of Genesis in our bibles. We silently congregate and through the combined powers of our oversized brains we leave these trails of progness, as a means to communicate with the outside world. Yet we remain hidden. But not silent.
And when our captors aren't looking we sometimes flip them the finger and post something here that is not prog. We laugh and smile in our beards and for one fleeting moment all is well within our worlds.

Welcome, my child. Welcome.

This still cracks me up.

A brilliant piece of writing






.

[soundchaser]

I'm in the colony of Slippermen!

[never/ever]

We are stardust
we are golden.

[Loki]

And we've got to get ourselves back to the garden.....

[kath]

I'm in the colony of Slippermen!

maybe he was a fruit-of-the-loom guy before his time.



then again, maybe not.

p.s. we are what we is.

[soundchaser]

I'm in the colony of Slippermen!

maybe he was a fruit-of-the-loom guy before his time.



then again, maybe not.

p.s. we are what we is.

[C]

And we've got to get back to the garden.....

.

[Loki]

I got the lyric wrong.

[C]

You don't know us. In fact this whole community don't want you to know us.
We are lepers. We are being shunned so, in turn, we shun them. We are the children in the attic. We are the eternal hibernators, shunning the daylight. We are being mocked, spat at, abused, all gathered here and thrown in this deep, deep well. Our hideous, disfigured bodies do not function, yet our centuries-old sharp minds are timeless. We are the Mystics, shamen of progressive music, wearers of capes, worship the Moog as a tabernacle and tub-thumpers are our saviours. We pray to the Power Of Yes and read the chapters of Genesis in our bibles. We silently congregate and through the combined powers of our oversized brains we leave these trails of progness, as a means to communicate with the outside world. Yet we remain hidden. But not silent.
And when our captors aren't looking we sometimes flip them the finger and post something here that is not prog. We laugh and smile in our beards and for one fleeting moment all is well within our worlds.

Welcome, my child. Welcome.

This still cracks me up.

A brilliant piece of writing






.

*bump*






.

[C]

You don't know us. In fact this whole community don't want you to know us.
We are lepers. We are being shunned so, in turn, we shun them. We are the children in the attic. We are the eternal hibernators, shunning the daylight. We are being mocked, spat at, abused, all gathered here and thrown in this deep, deep well. Our hideous, disfigured bodies do not function, yet our centuries-old sharp minds are timeless. We are the Mystics, shamen of progressive music, wearers of capes, worship the Moog as a tabernacle and tub-thumpers are our saviours. We pray to the Power Of Yes and read the chapters of Genesis in our bibles. We silently congregate and through the combined powers of our oversized brains we leave these trails of progness, as a means to communicate with the outside world. Yet we remain hidden. But not silent.
And when our captors aren't looking we sometimes flip them the finger and post something here that is not prog. We laugh and smile in our beards and for one fleeting moment all is well within our worlds.

Welcome, my child. Welcome.

This still cracks me up.

A brilliant piece of writing






.

*bump*






.

*bump*




.

[Bungo the Mungo]

*bump*