and the wind begins to snow
You are climbing the steps of the mountain but
there's no sweat on your brow
Is it gunshots in the distant woods, or
have your ears begun to grow
quite accustomed to all that you don't hear
but you only know
So you realize the danger's all overdone
in the name of being thorough
And the stones that begin to roll on down
are all kinda hollow
As you slip 'n' slide and you hold on tight
don't even notice anymore
Though the barking birds just won't shut up
you don't mind the snow
When the hill begins to climb up you
you'd almost swear it's a joke
In the unlikely event of an emergency
you'd rather not follow
the useless instructions of the cabin crew
but you'd rather go
in the general direction of the curvature
which is downwards though
As the night falls heavy on your eyelids
like a demon's roar
You can use the sunlight stored up inside
but use it very slow
And the moon could be your partner too
for it casts no shadow
It's getting hard to sense darkness anyway
for it never shows
The senses give up one at a time
and thoughts overflow
To the point that you can't differentiate
between then and now
So you don't even discern the dawn of dawn
but you simply row
through the river of dreams and all its streams
to the ocean of sorrow
When the mountain dissolves into the sea
all the friends turn foe
As the black turns white, and darkness is light
it's the end of the show
When you meet the master of marionettes
he's rather loath
to discuss anything that he ever does, or
places that he goes
And you realize that he was never more than
a stupid scarecrow
And after all he can only know the things
that his puppets know
For he has no mountains left to climb
no rivers to row
So you go back to making your way uphill
and never glance below
