EnglandKing Crimson

Artist rating: 81.16 % (ranking: not set)
Highest rating: 84.18 % (1969)
Most recent trend: 76.71 % (1981)
Highest trend: 89.18 % (1969)

Tracks (A-Ö)



Formed: 1969-01-13

Formed 54 years ago

External links



Adrian Belew, Bill Bruford, Boz Burrell, Mel Collins, David Cross, Robert Fripp, Michael Giles, Gordon Haskell, Greg Lake, Tony Levin, Andy McCulloch, Ian McDonald, Jamie Muir, Peter Sinfield, Ian Wallace, John Wetton
94.18 %
72.98 %
72.08 %
65.20 %


King Crimson - Lizard
80.50 %
Date released: 1970-12-11
Type: studio

In collection: CD
Best track: Lizard
Average track length: 08:33
Average track rating:


King Crimson:
Year (1970):
Decade (1970's):


Prince Rupert Awakes
Bolero - The Peacock's Tale
The Battle of Glass Tears: I. Dawn Song
The Battle of Glass Tears: II. Last Skirmish
The Battle of Glass Tears: III. Prince Rupert's Lament
Big Top
Total time:


Band members

2Mel Collins (23)
saxophone, flute
2Robert Fripp (24)
guitar, Mellotron (1, 2, 5), EMS VCS 3 (2), Hammond organ (2), devices
2Gordon Haskell (24)
bass guitar, vocals
2Peter Sinfield (26)
lyrics, EMS VCS 3 (2, 3)

Session works

2Keith Tippett (23)
acoustic and electric pianos

Guest artists

2Jon Anderson (26)
vocals (5:I)



Night: her sable dome scattered with diamonds,
Fused my dust from a light year,
Squeezed me to her breast, sowed me with carbon,
Strung my warp across time
Gave me each a horse, sunrise and graveyard,
Told me only I was her;
Bid me face the east closed me in questions
Built the sky for my dawn...

Cleaned my feet of mud, followed the empty
Zebra ride to the Cirkus,
Past a painted cage, spoke to the paybox
Glove which wrote on my tongue -
Pushed me down a slide to the arena,
Megaphonium fanfare.
In his cloak of words strode the ringmaster
Bid me join the parade...

"Worship!" cried the clown, "I am a T.E.
Making bandsmen go clockwork,
See the slinky seal Cirkus policeman;
Bareback ladies have fish."
Strongmen by his feet, plate-spinning statesman,
Acrobatically juggling -
Bids his tamers go quiet the tumblers
Lest the mirror stop turning...

Elephants forgot, force-fed on stale chalk,
Ate the floors of their cages.
Strongmen lost their hair, paybox collapsed and
Lions sharpened their teeth.
Gloves raced round the ring, stallions stampeded
Pandemonium seesaw...
I ran for the door, ringmasters shouted,
"All the fun of the Cirkus!"
Indoor Games
Indoor fireworks amuse your kitchen staff
Dusting plastic garlic plants
They snigger in the draught
When you ride through the parlour
Wearing nothing but your armour -
Playing Indoor Games.

One string puppet shows amuse
Your sycophantic friends
Who cheer your rancid recipes
In fear they might offend,
Whilst you loaf on your sofa
Sporting falsies and a toga -
Playing Indoor Games, Indoor Games.

Your mean teetotum spins arouse your seventh wife
Who pats her sixty little skins
And reinsures your life,
Whilst you sulk in your sauna
'Cos you lost your jigsaw corner -
Playing Indoor Games, Indoor Games.

Each afternoon you train baboons to sing
Or swim in purple perspex water wings.
Come Saturday jump hopper, chelsea brigade,
High bender-trender it's all Indoor Games.

No ball bagatelle incites
Your children to conspire,
They slide across your frying pan
And fertilize your fire;
Still you and Jones go madder
Broken bones-broken ladder -
Hey Ho...
Happy Family
Happy family, one hand clap, four went by and none came back.
Brother Judas, ash and sack, swallowed aphrodisiac.
Rufus, Silas, Jonah too sang, "We'll blow our own canoes,"
Poked a finger in the zoo, punctured all the ballyhoo

Whipped the world and beat the clock, wound up with their share of stock.
Silver Rolls from golden rock, shaken by a knock, knock, knock.
Happy family, wave that grin, what goes round must surely spin;
Cheesecake, mousetrap, Grip-Pipe-Thynne cried out, "We're not Rin Tin Tin."

Uncle Rufus grew his nose, threw away his circus clothes
Cousin Silas grew a beard, drew another flask of weird
Nasty Jonah grew a wife, Judas drew his pruning knife.
Happy family one hand clap, four went on but none came back

Happy family, pale applause, each to his revolving doors.
Silas searching, Rufus neat, Jonah caustic, Jude so sweet.
Let their sergeant mirror spin if we lose the barbers win;
Happy family one hand clap, four went on but none came back
Lady of the Dancing Water
Grass in your hair stretched like a lion in the sun
Restlessly turned moistened your mouth with your tongue.
Pouring my wine in your eyes caged mine glowing
Touching your face my fingers strayed knowing.
I called you lady of the dancing water.

Blown autumn leaves shed to the fire where you laid me
Burn slow to ash just as my days now seem to be.
I feel you still always your eyes glowing
Remembered hours salt, earth and flowers flowing
Farewell my lady of the dancing water.
Prince Rupert Awakes

Farewell the temple master's bells
His kiosk and his black worm seed
Courtship solely of his word
With Eden guaranteed.
For now Prince Rupert's tears of glass
Make saffron sabbath eyelids bleed
Scar the sacred tablet of wax
On which the Lizards feed.

Wake your reason's hollow vote
Wear your blizzard season coat
Burn a bridge and burn a boat
Stake a Lizard by the throat.

Go Polonius or kneel
The reapers name their harvest dawn
All your tarnished devil's spoons
Will rust beneath our corn.
Now bears Prince Rupert's garden roam
Across his rain tree shaded lawn
Lizard bones become the clay -
And there a Swan is born

Wake your reasons' hollow vote
Wear your blizzard season coat
Burn a bridge and burn a boat
Stake a Lizard by the throat.

Gone soon Piepowder's moss-weed court
Round which upholstered Lizards sold
Visions to their leaden flock
Of rainbows' ends and gold.
Now tales Prince Rupert's peacock brings
Of walls and trumpets thousand fold
Prophets chained for burning masks
And reels of dreams unrolled...

Bolero - the Peacock's Tale


The Battle of Glass Tears (including Dawn Song, Last Skirmish and Prince Rupert's Lament)

Night enfolds her cloak of holes
Around the river meadow.
Old moon-light stalks by broken ploughs
Hides spokeless wheels in shadow.
Sentries lean on thorn wood spears
Blow on their hands, stare eastwards.

Burnt with dream and taut with fear
Dawn's misty shawl upon them.
Three hills apart great armies stir
Spit oat and curse as day breaks.
Forming lines of horse and steel
By even yards march forward.

Big Top