Does any one remember LPs?

They just don't make albums or songs the way that they used to...

I am amazed at the depth and intensity of the feelings and emotions that the death of Pink Floyd's founding member, Richard Wright has stirred up within me.

After, spending several hours watching and listening to Pink Floyd perform their music on youtube, I realized that instead of mourning a loss, I was actually celebrating some very special relationships and experiences that Pink Floyd's music was a huge part of. You see, although, I never met Richard William Wright or any of the members of Pink Floyd- Pink Floyd was a very special part of the sound track of my life, "...in a relative way"

I was thinking of signing off - Richard William Wright / 28 July 1943 - 15 September 2008 / ---Comfortably Numb---

But, then I got to thinking that the ultimate compliment that I or any one can pay to the memory of a consummate musician/songwriter is to acknowledge that the Artist's music continues to live on within them... And so it is:

Richard William Wright / 28 July 1943 - 15 September 2008 / "SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND"

Click here

Breathe, breathe in the air. Don't be afraid to care. Leave, but don't leave me. Look around, choose your own ground.

Long you live and high you fly smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry all you touch and all you see Is all your life will ever be.

Run, rabbit run. Dig that hole, forget the sun, And when at last the work is done Don't sit down it's time to dig another one.

For long you live and high you fly But only if you ride the tide And balanced on the biggest wave You race towards an early grave. = = = Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town Waiting for someone or something to show you the way

Tired of lying in the sunshine Staying home to watch the rain And you are young and life is long And there is time to kill today And then one day you find Ten years have got behind you No one told you when to run You missed the starting gun

And you run, and you run to catch up with the sun, but it's sinking Racing around to come up behind you again The sun is the same in a relative way, but you're older Shorter of breath and one day closer to death

Every year is getting shorter Never seem to find the time Plans that either come to nought Or half a page of scribbled lines Hanging on in quiet desparation is the English way The time is gone The song is over Thought I'd something more to say

Home, home again I like to be here when I can When I come home cold and tired It's good to warm my bones beside the fire Far away across the field The tolling of the iron bell Calls the faithful to their knees To hear the softly spoken magic spells