Translation of It is obvious by Syd Barrett

From:

It is obvious
may I say, oh baby, that it is found on another plane?
Yes I can creep into cupboards, sleep in the hall
your stars - my stars, a simple cock bar
only an impulse - pie in the sky
mumble listen dolly
drift over your mind - holly
creep into bed when your head's on the ground
she held the torch on the porch,
she winked an eye

Reason it is written on the brambles
stranded on the spikes - my blood red, oh listen:
remember those times I could call
through the clear day
time - be there...
braver and braver, a handkercheif waver
the louder you lips to a loud hailer
growing together, they ('re) growing each either
no wondering, stumbling, fumbling
rumbling minds shot togther,
our minds shot together...

So equally over a valley, a hill
wood on quarry stood, each of us crying
a velvet curtain of grey
mark the blanket where the sparrows play
and the trees by the waving corn stranded
my legs move the last empty inches to you
the softness, the warmth from the weather in suspense
mote to a grog - the star a white chalk
minds shot together, our minds shot together...
Translate to:

It is obvious
may I say, oh baby, that it is found on another plane?
Yes I can creep into cupboards, sleep in the hall
your stars - my stars, a simple cock bar
only an impulse - pie in the sky
mumble listen dolly
drift over your mind - holly
creep into bed when your head's on the ground
she held the torch on the porch,
she winked an eye

Reason it is written on the brambles
stranded on the spikes - my blood red, oh listen:
remember those times I could call
through the clear day
time - be there...
braver and braver, a handkercheif waver
the louder you lips to a loud hailer
growing together, they ('re) growing each either
no wondering, stumbling, fumbling
rumbling minds shot togther,
our minds shot together...

So equally over a valley, a hill
wood on quarry stood, each of us crying
a velvet curtain of grey
mark the blanket where the sparrows play
and the trees by the waving corn stranded
my legs move the last empty inches to you
the softness, the warmth from the weather in suspense
mote to a grog - the star a white chalk
minds shot together, our minds shot together...