I never wanted guidance
|
To tell me where to find
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A light in the darkness
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Cause the dark I’d push aside
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No time for dreaming of a distant Paradise
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No time for tales of good and evil
|
Another correlation: as above so below
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Another analysing where illusions fail to show
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The face of the maker who’d leave you alone
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Without a sense of comprehension
|
When that meadow — in front of my eyes — will have dried away
|
Will my senses wither like flowers on my grave
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Will this wave of becoming flow into the void of time
|
The final hour:
|
When Never and Now become one
|
Will I find the orchid
|
The final hour:
|
Door to the garth of eternity?
|
Or withered orchid meadows?
|
Everybody’s praying
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But what if God is just a threat
|
And everybody’s straying?
|
If only they would just forget
|
Everybody’s craving
|
For a ghost light in the haze:
|
You’ll lose your minds one after another
|
Everybody’s craving
|
For what doesn’t have a name or a face
|
So reason could fit it in the frame
|
In quest of the orchid:
|
A glimmer in the daze
|
Till I awake to the sound of rigour
|
What if that meadow in your mind is just a fantasy?
|
And if it wanted to be seen why must you believe?
|
Will this wave of becoming flow into the void of time
|
The final hour
|
When Never and Now become one
|
Will I find the orchid
|
The final hour
|
Door to the garth of eternity
|
Or withered orchid meadows
|
Black orchid
|
Strange and beautiful
|
Oh black orchid I must find you
|
I remember that morning
|
He had to be told
|
What he couldn’t remember
|
After he’d spoken to the wall
|
And I gave to repression
|
What I must not have seen
|
What even believers
|
Must unlearn to unbelieve
|
The final hour
|
When Never and Now become one
|
Will I find the orchid
|
The final hour
|
Door to the garth of eternity
|
Or withered orchids
|
The final hour
|
When Never and Now become one
|
Will I find the orchid
|
The final hour
|
Door to the garth of eternity
|
Or withered black orchid meadows |