7:30 Mode Songtext
von Gene Clark

Through smoky shadowed blues of evening′s fall
Did you hear the wind's harmonic whine?
Purple into blackness now wield
And grey becomes a thought respect from time
The "Love Man" slings his reels of smiles and rhyme
But somehow he does not see her at all
For though his mellow chrome-wheeled carriage glides
The looking glass has shown her still another

The choruses of wind-up children dance
While Nancy has to pay for her new rainbow
Fringed disillusions passed her into a trance
Her days of Pochahontas ′neath the table
To figure out to 'round about me here
Or thinking to relate her where she stands
How morning just proceeds without a flaw
The questions in the drumming depths of oceans


The ragman never stops to wonder why
The streets are haunted by his own reflection
Simple gaze of who and where am I
Out from his sooty portrait of rejection
At least complex, a web of steel and glass
Find thoughts there stumbling into one another
Theresa says her teacher was a fool
Her aunt Marie says blame is to her mother

The flying dutchman's lone acoustic drone
Spans time
That weighs no payment to his measure
Through galleries of endless stormy seas
He roams bearing his brain to be unfilled
Eight hundred years before the mast have lost
He dares not death lest all his sails be flattened
Room only for relation to an end
There is no cause to see, to care or need

Congratulations to the thread-strung horn
He blew until his notes were lent unable
His soul stripped bare to bleed of its remorse
Incredible armada undermined
Tracked not to be confined to just exist
In a medium splintered stating of what is
He left his strings to melt into no song
The wake of some years past can now be settled