The sun rose again this morning
Though it cares not how I feel
And when we part in sorrow
It is the moon that helps me heal
Though it whispers calm assurance
Sometimes I cannot believe it’s real
So I wait until the sun rises tomorrow
To know what truth the light shall reveal

There are no ancient swords to aid in this,
nor prophets pointing the way,
no magic rings to find in dark caves,
nor a sleeping host awaiting the call.

Under the mists of time,
the faces worn in the light,
and the fears in the night,
still we stand and fight.

There are no keys to hidden doors,
nor waystations upon the road,
no mountains which to climb,
nor holy refuge to stumble upon.

Under the mists of time,
the faces worn in the light,
and the fears in the night,
still we stand and fight.

There is no face to the dark,
nor name to cry out to within it,
no blessing that I can give you,
nor any promise I can make.

Under the mists of time,
the faces worn in the light,
and the fears in the night,
still we stand and fight.

break for riff

Under the mists of time,
the faces worn in the light,
and the fears in the night,
still we stand and fight.

How can I be what you need?
How can I fight the past without weapons?
How can I hold you in the dark and make it go away?

There is no quest to be had,
save the one that takes me to you,
no battle worth fighting,
except to fight for you.

So much said and done,
so much unsaid and undone,
lost here now, lost within and without.

Under the mists of time,
the faces worn in the light,
and the fears in the night,
still we stand and fight.

It's twenty minutes to Midnight,
almost time for me to hate myself again.
Twenty minutes, and the clock is ticking
till I'll be hunted by you again.

Already I can smell you creeping,
taste you slithering up and out
of the past like some broken nightmare.

Some nights you've got the upper hand,
and others I can hold my own ground,
but neither of us can seem to outright
vanquish the hope in the other.

Were it fated for you and I,
to battle on for all eternity,
it just may be that I could jive,
nay, savy and roll with that.

But you, you've been putting your hooks
into my love's and my dear ones,
you've been putting your ****
in holes that don't belong to you.

Haunting hearts in need of repairs,
forcing your crooked smile
and your fingers made of knives
into places bleeding enough without you.

Come then, if monster enough ye may be,
to face me fully and let us end this
macabre dance in the old way,
have at me, and leave her to the
quiet love of the light of day.

Tell me you love me,
As you gaze into my eyes,
Leaving kisses for all to see,
In violet, yellow and cerise.

Show me your fiery passion,
As you scream out my name,
Expletives a mere expression,
Of feelings that drive you insane.

Make me feel your adoration,
With your bruising touch,
With the heart of a nation,
To make me love you as such.

.
We drove to wild poppy fields,
Lost and open under the sun,
To picnic in solemn, spent wonder,
And celebrate new found love.

Gentle rain came blowing in—
The sky painted a clouded mood,
And old mist rose in lighted heat
A gentle sheet of covering dark.

We then broke down to take leave,
Our lent time was now dead—
There under the cathedral of sun,
Our love smoked in poppyhead.