Dark clouds encroach And drag the light out of the midday sun Standing stones surround the confluence of nine into one Overhead, seven monuments to years gone by Seem to call upon the wind to scour the mountainside And imbue the stones with a life all their own
And from the voices of the young and wild A howling tempest takes its form Silent and paralyzed, thousands of upturned eyes Behold the approaching storm
Rain fears no fire Just as the tide fears no shore The sound of marching will be lost in the roar
Great multitudes lie asleep and waiting Caught in the gears of the groaning machine As worlds assemble themselves out of sight Nestled among the evergreens
Two columns of stone adorned with the Wayfarer's seal Rise through the vault of eternity no man can know And the wide-eyed shuffling denizens of the unreal Never suspect what goes on in the chambers below
A torch on the wall of the lodestone corridor Ignites a threadbare tapestry older than dreams The blaze illuminates a staircase descending to a long-forgotten door And the lock that bars it closed is not as unbreakable as it seems
Down where all is still, nothing grows Every sound disappears Save only the old dead words that no one hears
Rain fears no fire Just as the tide fears no shore The sound of marching will be lost forever in the roar
Thousands of upturned eyes that should have been weeping Instead are blistering beneath the open sky Beyond the sea The dreamers who should have been sleeping Glimpse, for a moment, the destiny they must defy
Borne upon the wistful wind Spirited away by the frailest prayer Wailing through the threnody One voice becomes a symphony Wanderlust shall be its only dream And those who remain shall speak its name
A tragedy in song Apostasy the winds portend From battlements upon the crags of dawn I witness the endTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
