It’s a very broad category for Song Lyric Sunday this week – songs with one-word titles.
Anyway, this is the one that came to my mind first – one of my favourite Pink Floyd sonic landscapes. The piece was, it seems, put together from various, previously unconnected, studio noodlings. Much like the lyrics, by the look of them.
Overhead the albatross hangs motionless upon the air
And deep beneath the rolling waves in labyrinths of coral caves
The echo of a distant time comes willowing across the sand
And everything is green and submarine
And no one showed us to the land
And no one knows the where’s or why’s
But something stirs and something tries
And starts to climb towards the light
Strangers passing in the street
By chance two separate glances meet
And I am you and what I see is me
And do I take you by the hand
And lead you through the land
And help me understand the best I can?
And no one calls us to move on
And no one forces down our eyes
No one speaks and no one tries
No one flies around the sun
Cloudless every day you fall
Upon my waking eyes
Inviting and inciting me to rise
And through the window in the wall
Come streaming in on sunlight wings
A million bright ambassadors of morning
And no one sings me lullabies
And no one makes me close my eyes
So I throw the windows wide
And call to you across the sky
Written by Pink Floyd
the only deadhead in the hameau 
This complex song was born by coincidence, as Richard Wright was playing the amplified piano filtered by a Leslie rotating speaker, a note went into resonance, a feedback. Listening to it, the band considered those sounds interesting and worked on it. Since it happened by chance, the possibility to repeat the same sound was practically zero, so they just decided to add the sound recorded on that day in the beginning of the song. This song is supposedly about the potential that human beings have for recognizing each other’s humanity and responding to it, with empathy rather than antipathy. I always liked this, thanks for sharing it today.