1972

A part of "The Dance in Frost" in Paris 18/3/1972.
Van Der Graaf playing in the Bataclan theatre. It was filmed for a show called Pop Deux.
From litzlitz on youtube

Pawn Hearts original vinyl release in the U.S. and Canada contained a fourth track, squeezed between "Lemmings" and "Man-Erg", which was the band's arrangement of an old BBC Radio 1 closing theme. This instrumental, called "Theme One", was originally composed by none other than George Martin. In Europe, where Pawn Hearts only contained the three tracks, "Theme One" was released as a single in February 1972, with the song "W" as its b-side.
The 2005 reissue of Pawn Hearts includes "Theme One" (original mix) as Bonus Track.

(released first on the B side of "Theme One" single.
Included as Bonus Track in the 2005 reissue of Pawn Hearts)

Life is an endless succession of waves,
you're happy and you're sad
and you don't appreciate the good times
until you'e in the bad....
You wake up one morning - w -
and you're twice as unhappy
as you've ever been before in your life.

You wake up, go to the window
and see smoke billowing across the lawn.
You pick your feet up, drag yourself downstairs
and you're gone.
You wake up one morning - w -

Fight within a war within a song:
Roland dies, but memory lingers on....

Soldier, approaching the Gates of Spain,
treachery waits for you and the baggage train;
a rearguard stand, your final war, it's what you've been living for.

Soldier, as you sit astride Viellantif
Durendal abides inside your sheath; soon you shall grace the day.
Turpin and Oliver ride by your side,
bishop and king's pawn about to slide; do you feel fit to slay?

Carlon is riding far ahead
and cannot hear your voice if you call;
Ganelon, the traitor, in his tent

I was thinking about thinking
but it really didn't get me very far,
so I thought I'd throw a Tarot,
but I only got the Priestess and the Star.
There's a shadow cast between the future and the past;
the room and I agree to buy some time....
The cards don't tell truth nor lies,
only options and cusp lines:
the furniture in the black room.

I've been thinking about acid,
but, it seems, there's not a reason to believe.
I don't make a vital breakthrough
and it walks me like a dog upon a lead.
It's all unreal and, the way I feel,

We play games and every move
is noted down as a subsequent cause
and effectively chains our freedom and will to live;
we settle in to simple survival,
hanging on our pleasures grimly...
we must never let them go.

Our prison walls are slowly built,
stone by stone and day by day;
no provision for escape,
entombed alive in safety
and decay.

Time sets around us in killing frames,
black border round our names.
Our fingers lose their grip
and the torch slips.

The enemy for everyone
is everyone, inside.
I feel the hand of security

My friends, I never really thought you'd go,
but, then, we know that's the way it happens here.
Now time is like cat's cradle in my hands:
I gather up the strands much too slowly.

The refugees are gone...they take their separate paths,
obliterate the past, figures in an ash shroud.
Susie, I guess you're on your way to be a star,
but I don't know where you are;
the only time I seem to see you is on the TV
It's so easy just to slip away....

Mike!
It's a year or two since I've seen you....
I might have dropped you a line
if I'd had time
or the will.

What's it worth to be safe?
What's the way to be sane?
I can throw myself at the garden
on my hands,
prune the lawn and mow the roses,
but I never understand
how to go
to be free;
in the end I only want to be me.

Winter days here are mine;
still, no bites...what's my line?
I could hurl myself to the bonfire
with all verve,
clear the path and weed the dead leaves,
but I really just don't have the nerve
to be part
of that scene...
is this just some kind of strange dream?

Think I'll walk to the steeple, where the people
are so inquisitive.

I promise you, I won't leave a clue:
no tell-tale remark, no print from my shoe.
Still, a steady trail to the water's edge...
I will keep my pledge to the end:
I intend to go free.

No more rushing around, no more travelling chess;
I guess I'd better sit down, you know I do need the rest....
Yes, it's time to resign with equanimity and placidity
from the game.
I can't explain;
I can't relate....
Have I done it all too late?

Now is the time for the commission to report;
till lately, I thought I'd been planted.
Trying hard to make it all come real,

Watch for the silent moment, only waiting to be saved.
Wait for the Liemaker: he comes again
and sinks his barbs through honesty:
roll him over with all possible speed!
Don't let him touch you with the candle of his need
or let him be, hysterically ravaging your grave.

You are emotion picture, re-run at single frame.
You are the instant playback, no chance for change;
smile and smile, living diary!
Roll you over before it's too late;
before you're exposed to the monochrome phase
which can relate only fear and hate through the haze.