| Through the looking glass we flee
|
| When deserts swallow all we see
|
| It’s all coalescing in a moment
|
| As the sun kisses me
|
| When the days all drown in disarray
|
| The bells will toll and we’ll understand what they stole
|
| From the poets mouths
|
| Their well of words is drawn
|
| Their words, the ink would never let dry, but sadly set alight
|
| Like a flame set out to see the world at night
|
| Medicated in this state, we feel imagination numbly fade
|
| As the melody is coursing through our veins
|
| With silver tongues, they talk
|
| As we listen to them spouting lies back and forth
|
| Since all their ideals are gold that their truths can’t afford
|
| So through the looking glass we flee
|
| When deserts swallow all we see
|
| It’s all coalescing in a moment as the sun kisses me
|
| Their words decide if the fire cuts through
|
| Or simple flickers and subsides
|
| With poison dripping all down the page
|
| An audience fed toxic words, until they obey
|
| Please, oh Piper play your song
|
| Sedate the snakes then move along
|
| We’re insatiable, we feed on melodies
|
| Intangible
|
| I fail to read what’s right in front of me
|
| With every verse i’m blinded by what’s to come
|
| And what has come to be
|
| Now we’re left holding a picture
|
| Piece by piece
|
| With silver tongues, they talk
|
| As we listen to them spouting lies back and forth
|
| Since all their ideals are gold that their truths can’t afford
|
| So through the looking glass we flee
|
| When deserts swallow all we see
|
| We’re burning out of these sun-kissed bodies
|
| So we stare into the breach that lies between
|
| The pen, the page and this soliloquy
|
| With an invitation from the deep
|
| To join them in their sleep
|
| We can’t see what we are, we only see what we want
|
| This fallacy is just the start
|
| We can’t see what we are, we only see what we want
|
| This fallacy is just the start
|
| With silver tongues, they talk
|
| As we listen to them spouting lies back and forth
|
| Because all their ideals are gold
|
| With silver tongues, they talk
|
| As we listen to them spouting lies back and forth
|
| Since all their ideals are gold that their truths can’t afford
|
| So through the looking glass we flee
|
| When deserts swallow all we see
|
| We’re burning out of these sun-kissed bodies |