Let's write a little personal communion
treading carefully across the great divide
what's inside, what's inside?
Lurking in the shadows
I've heard the things they said about you.
I don't know what they are
or where they came from
but they give you shape and form.
I looked at the glowing pyramid
and I wondered how much longer until meltdown.
There's only so much you can take.
That's what I used to think.
And the zombies, they are gathering steadily
and the aliens are usually out
to dominate the world
and who's ever heard of a gently souled vampire
who cries as he takes your life,
your blood, your soul?
For breakfast, I think I'll have a Hindu ocean
and a little bitty piece of Indra's web.
I'll dip my soldiers into the Acashic records
well who knows,
you never know what you might find.
And as the dreamtime fast approaches
and as the shadow borderland recedes
and as the sun begins to rise at last
breaking free so finally
and with such devastation that the land
will never, never be the same again ...
... I still wonder
just what happened to my love for you.
I still wonder why
the stranger felt so good that night
when I had sworn to love you,
be with you, no matter what.
I guess I always knew I took us for a ride
across the mountain heights and gentle vales
where all is pastel and so still and quiet
that if there was a beating heart at all
it could be heard
from dawn till night.
So there you stand amidst the shadows
and you shield your eyes
against the flaring glare
and you can feel the heat wind scorch you,
sear you, clean you,
clear you and erase you
your ashes will become
the fertile soil of desert lands
and I will be the lady
and the gentle rain.