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The Flickering Flame

A new song entitled "The Flickering Flame" had been rehearsed before the tour (a portion of which can be heard during the video rehearsals seen in the special section on the "Live In The Flesh" DVD, where Roger plays a few bars). Roger had previously stated that no new songs would be performed during this new leg of the tour. However, "The Flickering Flame," was played as the final encore at Roger's first and second 2002 tour dates in Capetown and Johannesburg South Africa. "The Flickering Flame" encore, was played in place of the also unreleased song "Each Small Candle," which was played as the encore during the 2000 leg of the tour in the US.

"Each Small Candle" was again the encore for the shows in South America. It may be that it will remain the closer for the rest of the tour. Perhaps "The Flickering Flame" was played especially for the people of South Africa who only in recent years have shaken off the yokes of Aparteid. It will be interesting to see if "The Flickering Flame" is played at any other shows during this tour. Here below is one fans transcription of the lyrics to "The Flickering Flame."

The Flickering Flame

When my neurons conspire to distract my thoughts
Away from divorce and competitive sports
Back to the place where all rivers run to the sea
Then I shall be free
Then I shall be free

On a see-saw in a strange land
The jackdaw sat on the cardinals hand
And the fiddlers played
And the planners plan what would be

On a back seat in a court room
sat Molly Malone and Leopold Bloom
Until the police came down with a new broom
And swept them clean

Like Geronimo
Like Quinn the Eskimo
Like Blackfoot
And like the Arapaho
Like Crazy Horse
I'll be the last one to lay down my gun...

And when the bell sounds for that final round
I'll be there

On the open road in a bar room
A pick up band plays a new tune
When the coloured girl sing
I feel my heart boom

When a new song hits the right note
When a clearing in the sky saves an old boat
When an answer strikes the mote
From my own eye

Like Geronimo
Like Quinn the Eskimo
Like the Blackfoot
And like the Arapaho
Like Crazy Horse
I'll be the last one to lay down my gun...

They're the same beyond the next plain
I'll feel the heat of the flickering flame
On an African Plain by a thorn tree
My old friend Philippe is waiting for me

Que se passe Que se passe
What ever will be will be
When a friend dies and the tears rise
From that deep well that never runs dry
And the women break their bracelets
And the men take their whisky outside

In a pied 'a' terre on the rue St. Denis
The red velvet curtain pulls back to reveal
The place where the dark side meets the angel in me...
the angel in me

When my synapses pause in their quest for applause
When my ego lets go of its end of the bone
To focus instead on a love that is precious to me
Then I shall be free
Then I shall be free

by Roger Waters


(Note: A mote is a spec of dust... and Philippe Constantine, a very close friend of Roger's, passed away very recently. He was French, but had spent a lot of time in Africa)






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