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Every man beholds the earth and his birth with wonder.
In such a design, is there neither rhyme nor reason ?

A spark was born of the dark,
The ancient voices awoke and began to dream,
Stories down from the stars,
The seven sisters descended and began to sing,
Past and future are but one thread that they spin.

As it is above, so it is below.
Sink deeper and deeper, down to the underworld
Nature is an altar, a thousand rhymes entangled

Should you decypher the signs, and read the lines in the sand,
You'll see shimmering seeds engraved
And the Serpent's eggs bloom in your hands.

CHORUS
Seek the hollow earth
When the wind whispers,
When the Crow can speak
And answer all riddles,
When the Cross is high
In the Southern sky,
Should you think, you'll find a tale in every thing
Can we make sense out of chance ?
that orchestrates our existence ?

We are the creators,
We are mimes, and shape-shifters.

CHORUS

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