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        Astronomy Domine 
        Careful With That Axe, Eugene 
        Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun 
        A Saucerful Of Secrets 
         
        Sysyphus 
        Several Species Of Small Fury Animals Gathered Together In A Cave
        And Grooving With A Pict 
        Grantchester Meadows 
        The Narrow Way Part III 
         
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           Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered 
          Together in a Cave and Grooving With a Pict  (Waters) 
          Nach dem englischsprachigen FAQ gibt es zwei Versuche, die Worte zu deuten. 
          I Brian Tompsett 
           
          Aye an' a bit of Mackeral settler rack and ruin 
          ran it doon by the haim, 'ma place 
          well I slapped me and I slapped it doon in the side 
          and I cried, cried, cried. 
           
          The fear a fallen down taken never back the raize 
          and then Craig Marion, get out wi' ye Claymore out mi pocket 
          a' ran doon, doon the middin stain 
          picking the fiery horde that was fallen around ma feet. 
           
          Never he cried, never shall it ye get me alive 
          ye rotten hound of the burnie crew. 
          Well I snatched fer the blade O my Claymore 
          cut and thrust and I fell doon before him round his feet. 
          Aye! 
          A roar he cried 
          frae the bottom of his heart that I would nay fall but as dead, 
          dead as 'a can be by his feet; de ya ken? 
           
          ...and the wind cried back. 
            
          II Mike Merriam 
          Aye an' a bit of Mackeral (Fagger, wreck'n) fear 
          Ran it doon by the (haim) 
          And I (flew). 
          When I (slapped) me, 
          And I flopped it doon in the shade, 
          And I cried, cried, 'n cried. 
           
          The fear o' fallen down 'a taken, ne'er back t' raise. 
           
          And then cried Mary, 
          And I took that weighted claymore right out of (---), 
          And ran doon, doon the mountain side, 
          And back unt' the fiery horde that was fall'n round y' feet. 
           
          Never, I cried, 
          Never shall ye take me alive, 
          Y' rotten hound and the (----- --rew). 
           
          Well I (snapped fore) the blade o' my claymore, 
          Cut and thrust, 
          And I fell down before him. 
          Right at his feet. Aye! 
           
          A roar, he cried, 
          Fr' the bottom of his heart, 
          That I would nay fall 
           
          But as dead, 
          Dead as I can, by feat 
          (D' ya ken?) 
           
          And the wind cried Mary. 
           
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