Bishop Of Hexen Stride The Corridors Of One's Mind
A story about a story told before...
Questions to answer and no answers to a question asked before
What advantage does a man have as he labors all his life under the sun ?
As the wind lashes and time evades
Forth comes the wind circles and goes forth back again...
To nurse or planet an orchid only to remain with seeds again to built, and harvest thin air...
Carried away by spirits carried away...
Perennial pain, night tears, rain and the sun in her place again
Places unknown to man, and man who don't know their place
Carried away by the spirits, carried away...
The dead son of the dead
No memories of the first and the last leaves no memory
The wise is buried aside the fool
A generation comes and withers away and the land forever standing
The end is set, and so is the beginning
Rather die as a lion, then live as a dog
Rather go with a blast, and then fade to the fog
To dream all night long, and awake at a bog
Evil feeds on good, who breeds evil again
Saw the dance insane
Saw slaves on horses (and lords on foot)
Riches turn to hay
Minds and bone decay
I saw flesh burning!
The mortal coil-rendered into ash
Oh all statues stoic, but hide a brutal demise
The days of long since past... and old I have become
All that was promised has turned to dust
Hymns and prayers have come to pass
Subdued and addicted, so perplexed, alas!
And man within the mind's corridors-lost
Saw the sounds and heard the sights
I've seen the sounds, and I've heard the sights
Nothing matters but myriad moments of grace...
