Another beautiful day in DC, another virtual tour for you. I live not far from Congressional Cemetery established in 1807 and the resting ground for many who served in our legislature. The song is Epitaph by King Crimson and the lyrics (below the fold) seem particularly apt.Some of my friends are aware that I am infested by hawks. My best friend died 5 years ago and he had always known he would die early and claimed he would come back as a hawk. I have been the object of more low swoops by them than is anywhere near probable. Makes a guy wonder. There was one yesterday at the White House and one circling the Cemetery when I sat in the shade to chill today. Blue Skies LST.
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
As silence drowns the screams.
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
When no one sets the rules.
The fate of all mankind I see
Is in the hands of fools.
Confusion will be my epitaph.
As I crawl a cracked and broken path
If we make it we can all sit back
But I fear tomorrow Ill be crying,
Yes I fear tomorrow Ill be crying.