Walk with me to my
mountain's top From its vantage point
This morning on the faces of those who sleep
Sleep with no
dreams Sleep with no dreams
It's often to a pass,
watching the meadow upon my shoulders,
Collecting as the snow.
Often well in our dreams of revelations,
Fearing to adjust their beddings,
Into darkness where they let their cravings lie.
Though it's far off the skies,
beneath the waves of knowledge,
The rushing wind has to stop me shining,
a song in the night's rays.
Often well in our dreams of revelations,
Fearing to adjust their beddings,
Into darkness where they let their cravings lie.
And still I wander
as dormant in the night,
These folds of footsteps,
pillory of burden,
Sweet lie,
I leave thee out of truth,
and pass the day shut, falling
onto death's ears.
It's often to a pass,
watching the meadow upon my shoulders,
Collecting as the snow.
Often well in our dreams of revelations,
Fearing to adjust their beddings,
Into darkness where they let their cravings lie.
Though it's far off the skies,
beneath the waves of knowledge,
The rushing wind has to stop me shining,
a song in the night's rays.
Often well in our dreams of revelations,
Fearing to adjust their beddings,
Into darkness where they let their cravings lie.
And still I wander
as dormant in the night,
These folds of footsteps,
pillory of burden,
Sweet lie,
I leave thee out of truth,
and pass the day shut, falling
onto death's ears.