| I was dreaming in my dreaming
|
| of an aspect bright and fair
|
| and my sleeping it was broken
|
| but my dream it lingered near
|
| in the form of shining valleys
|
| where the pure air recognized
|
| and my senses newly opened
|
| I awakened to the cry
|
| that the people / have the power
|
| to redeem / the work of fools
|
| upon the meek / the graces shower
|
| it’s decreed / the people rule
|
| The people have the power
|
| The people have the power
|
| The people have the power
|
| The people have the power
|
| Vengeful aspects became suspect
|
| and bending low as if to hear
|
| and the armies ceased advancing
|
| because the people had their ear
|
| and the shepherds and the soldiers
|
| lay beneath the stars
|
| exchanging visions
|
| and laying arms
|
| to waste / in the dust
|
| in the form of / shining valleys
|
| where the pure air / recognized
|
| and my senses / newly opened
|
| I awakened / to the cry
|
| Refrain
|
| Where there were deserts
|
| I saw fountains
|
| like cream the waters rise
|
| and we strolled there together
|
| with none to laugh or criticize
|
| and the leopard
|
| and the lamb
|
| lay together truly bound
|
| I was hoping in my hoping
|
| to recall what I had found
|
| I was dreaming in my dreaming |