Town in the shadow of a mountain
Crown of the mountain came avalanching down
All summer long
We are stalking what
We came to call the Song
The Song was a kind of eruption
Mover of mountains, avalanche of crowns
When we were young
We sought the laws
We thought would cause the Song
Life is a dream
We are phantoms
Man is the union
Of divinity and dust
All summer long
When we were young
Before we'd sung the Song
No mere machine made of music
Of words and music as other songs are
This was the Song
A recipe, a remedy, a cure
The Song would be sung on the border
Sung by us standing, straddling the line
Between two worlds
Unified only by the Song
Этот текст прочитали 247 раз.