Epitaph (Live from Fillmore East, New York, NY, 21st November 1969)

The wall on which the prophets wrote
Is cracking at the seams
Upon the instruments of death
The sunlight brightly gleams
When every man is torn apart
With nightmares and with dreams
Will no one lay the laurel wreath
When silence drowns the screams?

Confusion will be my epitaph
As I crawl, a cracked and broken path
If we make it, we can all sit back and laugh
But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying
Yes, I fear tomorrow I'll be crying
Yes, I fear tomorrow I'll be crying

Between the iron gates of fate
The seeds of time were sown
And watered by the deeds of those
Who know and who are known;
Knowledge is a deadly friend if no one sets the rules
The fate of all mankind I see is in the hands of fools

[Flute Solo]

The wall on which the prophets wrote
Is cracking at the seams
Upon the instruments of death
The sunlight brightly gleams
When every man is torn apart
With nightmares and with dreams
Will no one lay the laurel wreath
When silence drowns the screams?

Confusion will be my epitaph
As I crawl, a cracked and broken path
If we make it, we can all sit back and laugh
But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying
Yes, I fear tomorrow I'll be crying
Yes, I fear tomorrow I'll be crying

Thank you
Good night