IV. Frame And Form

Mine is a real fine line
I get harder the higher I climb
Shine like a star so bright
Anybody can see anytime

No-one will want to follow
This will be gone tomorrow
We enter an age of permanent doubt
Where we communicate without words
But I must be heard
So I cut through the smoke and the noise

Mine is a real fine line
It imagines it's one of a kind

Goodbye to all expression
Farewell to superstition
We enter an age of permanent doubt
Where we communicate without words

And the noise expands
As it covers the lie of the land
Shine like a star so bright
Till we shut out the light,
Put out the fire
Cut through the smoke and the noise

Lately I've been talking to myself
Been remembering and doing little else
The road ahead is anything but clear
Last time around, where did we go from here?


V. Mortal Procession

What about some golden hours?
I was alive, certainly you were wrong
Anyone can be pursuaded
Given the time, we all scream alone
What about this good for nothing season again?,
Everything's come and gone
And I can't believe that I'm not watching you
I'm in a sorry state
Return to ordinary thoughts now
If you can
The words I hardly understand
Gather 'round me while I wait
What about those colder rewards
Arming against lost intelligence?
Anyone who saw me crawling there
Would have known that I was normal once
Return to ordinary thoughts
Too young to take the stand
But old enough to kill anyone
HA!

In the days when love divided up the looks
No drastic means were used
Like rod and hooks
To enhance what nature's sculptor
Had designed
No augmentation needed to refine
In the valley of the dollar, we rejoice
For plastic is the currency of choice
And beauty born is strictly for the birds
Your cash is fine but credit is preferred

When I held myself aloft,
I walked across the water
Now I barely cut across,
Lives are getting shorter
And they open up another door
To a border far below
For the time that I'm allowed,
There's a new horizon
But a soul as cold as ice
Is nothing to rely upon

If I'm hanging onto angels' wings
Then I'm safer in the air

Do I still qualify, suspended from on high?
No other sanctuary have I


VI. Ghosts Of Days

And when the eyes of children
See past the ones left standing
And the time has surely come
To understand who we are

Slowly the fires are burning
Bearing their silent witness
And the living past returns
To reap the Harvest of Souls