笨小笨The Hermit歌词由Richard Dawson演唱，出自专辑《The Ruby Cord》，下面是《The Hermit》完整版歌词！
The Hermit歌词完整版
I'm awake but I can't yet see;
An eager chiffchaff is heralding me.
The image starts to form of a four-poster bed
sprung in the clarts of a riverbend.
And the Claviger knows
when the beaded shoots go
through the arid interstix of my toes
among the mazed roots of Rowan as
I pass my waste.
Vaporous shafts of a burgeoning sun
skewer the forest-floor onto a world fresh begun
all in the Name of the Harvest,
i.e. our ever-onrushing plasma.
Shadows of leaves
mottled by the cleaves
of caterpillar's ardent mandibles
form a basketweave of glowing mud,
bluebells in bud.
Linen smock
and scarlet-embroidered mantua
descend from alderbranches shined with dew to settle
onto my body.
A little emerald brooch
unclasps itself from moss
to alight upon my breast.
I step into a slipperpair -
exquisite replicas of those worn by
Ada, the Enchantress of Numbers.
Two swallowed cups
of pureed bilberries,
which grow in abundance
by the cornmill ruins:
One hungers for nothing.
Now let's follow
these tracks of a Fallow Deer -
sentences of clay leading away from here.
Out of the yawning dene
and over a gorsey brow vanishes
her black horseshoe rump and tattered tail
into a gossamer vale.
At the heather-tousled crest of
Yeavering Bell we may enter a
stone beacon-tower
from which the eye may
hold a whole sweep of the kingdom:
Hazy marshes, crow-pocked copses,
patchwork meadows labyrinthed with hedgerows
gently declining to a fluff of woodsmoke
clung to the fringe of the North Sea;
The village of Bebba
where once I lived, a
fisher, before I was forced to flee.
*
One fair morn, wrapped in a shawl of salt-mist
I gathered in my pots of White-Clawed Crayfish
and from those sucking sands
did I make my way
dripping to the kitchendoor of the Crossed Keys.
Young Charley Wheatstone, the innkeeper's lad,
with the same star-shaped birthmark as his dad
set square on his chin,
bid me a shy 'hail fellow'
and emptied the squeaking traps
into a pewter trough.
The forlorn brewer, lacking ample coin,
apologised with a token of grubs on a stick
and suggested payment take the form
of an upgrade to my visual and ontoceptual cortexes.
Back in the throes of my then-home -
a blubberlit chamber
off the cliff-crazing tunnels beneath the fort -
I donned Diogenes' Robes, imbibed the Code
and disappeared into a dream of Kittiwakes,
a hundred billion voices echoing around a
dark amphitheatre,
still ringing in my ears
as I went creel in hand
through the Bog of Names.
Upon entering a blossom grove
I went into total spasm as a
storm of info broke abruptly across my retinas.
I came around to an enhanced perception
of every life-form within a ten-yard radius.
Each throbbed with its own aurora.
Utterly awed,
I'd inadvertently drawn to my mind's-eye
a lone Ashy Miner Bee, as if to a plate
under a microscope.
I sobbed as I zoomed among
individual hairs on its forelegs and face
and stared for a long time into the ommatidia.
Performing a scan
on a cache of False Death Caps
I found I could trace their history
all the way back to manufacture.
Slippery Jack, Amethyst Deceiver,
Fairy Rings, Penny Buns, Hen Of The Wood…
I was amazed
scrolling not only the funguses yesterdays
but also their myriad yet-bloomed tomorrows.
With a burden of redcurrants
and wild garlic at my elbow I
wearily made my
way along Crackpool Burn,
joining the coast road at Glororum.
Up ahead I could see what
looked to be a robot knelt in the lane,
revealed at a higher magnification
as a gilt-clad knight of Old
submerged at the waist in
unyielding concrete,
flailing his arms to a windmill of gold.
Lifting up the poor soul's visor
my gaze met with a mask of
vein-popping fury -
or was it abject fear? -
gasping the Chivalric oath.
Then it was over -
he split asunder,
gleaming armour dissolving to unveil
the apprentice of Godwin the Whitesmith, a merest sliver of a man.
Stooped to retrieve the platinum from his mouth I
heard halted hooves and the cry "MURDERER!"
*
Tiny cobles out at sea,
a black wall of cloud in the east
and a taper of rainbow
faintly aglow
amidst their wakes.
