With the silent fragments dusted off
Spraying your memory with images of the past
Traces of a life lived without you
Shaking and sweating and wriggling
With the hope for forgiveness
These were the ways things were done
These were the routes men and women
Had to take
And I tell myself this is the time they dreamt of
Passing the dream onto the next
Penetrating the forefront of embryos embraced
White lies that eventually turned to truths
A whisper of love in the dark
Faith that time will be fair and just
And discovering
That it knows not how to perform that
And with the money on the table
A grin on your face
The girl that said she'd love you
Gone and without a trace
Recall the Fall we met in the hall
Your hair in your eyes as you cried and cried
I tell the way I want to see things
The branches burning and Ma' over there making stew
I went down the road and saw a toad
He told me a secret and my soul began to crawl
I jumped to the sky as a bird called out
"Each hour wasted is an hour of power!"
After that I mentioned it to a friend of mine
He whined as he pined through nettled bread
And left me with questions alone instead
Now through this I ask the claims of power
And ye' broken hearted string artists
Who climb on high walls bricks and all
Could it be thy' love is old ancient and worn
That the waters are boiling as angels stand toiling
Over whose wings are more majestic and crescent
God through the eyes a work worn child
Ash in their hair and living without a care
Stairs that line up like the hairs on your neck
Spectacles are broken your eyes fixed on the fair
Normal in the way that blankets fall from their sheets
A repetitious trance where ambition is the obsession
That death is the only guarantee in life
We are meant to live in the places we know not of