A dove cries, the love of it is purified
The stillness of the art exemplifies the beauty
Evaporated purple essences into the sky
A controversial line, a symbol for a lion
A powerful musical analyst and tyrant
Folklore of a time, callous to the minds
An astute pundit of an author of a ballad
A light that shines bright on our eyelids
Profound with the sounds of guitars and vocals
The laying of which is caroused into my soul
End credits, I here you praying at the end of the world
Adore you, adore the music that implores you
The pouring of instruments into the cords of your fortress
A parade of lyricism, a masquerade free if blemish
Uniquely paved into the trail of ravens
That hum Purple Rain as the wind caves in