I want to lay with you,
roots grown together,
tired from the day
in a bed of clover
under mother moon
with nowhere to be.
The leaves would begin to fall,
eventually,
blanketing us from autumn's bitter cold
and the scorns of obligation.
I want to drink you through my nose,
your primrose perfume twinged
with subtle notes of leaf litter.

And when the whim to rise finally
lifted us
the grass beneath would be matted
and combed
in the shape of yin and yang.

When the music stops,
It's time for me to get up
And walk on out.

And when the sun sets
Over this beach we live on,
I've always got to go on.

For five years, it was OK
Being alone, being needed
But not doing the needing.

Guess it doesn't really matter,
Since I sure can write like
It does, but writing is just words.

These days though, after the last
Year spent belonging somewhere,
Being part of a crew and a crowd....

Someone throws on the Stones,
In walks the ghost of where I know
I'm headed no matter what I do.

Yeah, here I am now, exactly who I
Thought I wanted to be, living my
Own rules, beholden to no one.

And ya know what, it's made a great
****** story, something I always wanted to read, the kind of story your's is too.

Sure hasn't been as much fun
Living it as I thought it might be,
Finding you in your driveway,
And I was too drunk to be who
You honestly needed me to be.

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.