North Face of The Red King
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The rusted chains of prison moons,
Are shattered by the sun.
I walk a road, horizons change;
The tournament's begun.
The purple piper plays his tune,
The choir softly sing:
Three lullabies in an ancient tongue,
For the Court of the Crimson King.
(King Crimson - 1969)
Telephoto view of Courthouse Butte, as seen from the eastern base of
Cathedral Rock (AZ).
September 16, 2009