I'm in a hall made out of cards
my going ever narrows
through its walls I see the halls
of others travelling near

Theirs are wide and tall and sound
for why must this be so?
For if I stretched
reached through my cards
surely they'd all downfall

But I refuse to stop.
Refuse to stop.

Inching through my hall of cards
stops are many frequent
as ice slices deep in frame
but still I will go on

I walk and walk and walk and walk
                 and walk and walk and walk and walk
                                  and walk and walk and walk and walk

Should I stop?


Maybe this hall is to fall
and then I would be free
but if it was not, is not
then wherever would I be?

Would I break down all of it
the whole careful facade?
Would I ruin all of it
by daring to stray from the path?

no, no
I better stay.
no, no
I better not stray.
No, no, it's not the hero's way,
but...
No
No
it's better this way.