No meditation, break the spell, there's something in the air tonight. Swans circle with their heads aloft, the water ripples back the site. The clouds drift in and the moon goes out and the sky turns dark and the wind calls to me softly. Thunder rumbles and lightning blows from the east and west and rain stings my face and I'm all alone. The lake beckons me and welcomes me home. Please hold my hand, I'm a sinner. Please hold my hand, I'm a prophet. I'm drowning in this cruel paradise. I'm drowning in this cruel paradise. *
