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Album: Track 3 on An Illusion to the Temporary Real
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Condemned to forge a barren hell
To deify and then dispel
That summers' love....... in winters' rain I wept
At the vista on the edge of forever
Where the party is culminating thus
Iago deals a hand again
That I have not the wit to comprehend
Above all else our birthright to be shackled will remain
And paths we choose can only be so wide
To greener pastures hence?
The joker rocks the fence
But in pastures, green or barren, we abide
At this vista on the edge of forever
Where the party has culminated thus
The deified can now ascend
To where I've not the wit to comprehend
With the currency of damnation
On whom do we spend our sorrow?
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