Bent Cold Sidewalk

When I talk to the trees

O'great trees who have learned to speak slowly

I know that they believe that they have an answer

Then I walk in the city where I cannot hear it

When I talk to the city

I have already learned three answers

Before I call the question

And slowly, I wish myself among trees

But can not hear myself wishing

When I talk to the people

Who are the trees that grow in the city

They reply with a fond kindness, slowly

But there is no answer

For experience to be made by mistake

Upon this key, time will slide

Beyond the lock, you lose your mind

And as our door becomes open

A rush of sound is found inside

Creating dreams that pass you by

You may live through your life a long long time

But you will never know from where it came

Yet all you've seen is what you've wanted to

You're walking forward as you look behind

Still watching those old memories fade and die

This door is heavy, and is deeply stained

With wasted tears, that try to fight in vain

You may be sitting, feeling quite secure

But listen carefully - and this key is yours -

For we can lead you far beyond that door

There are dangers hidden, trust in that language

And it is precisely this conception that which must not be changed

The epitome of our language is patterns containment of thought and sound

I die to fight!

I die to fight!

I die to fight!

Upon this key, time will slide

Beyond each lock, you lose your mind

And as our door becomes open

A rush of sound is found inside -

Creating dreams that pass you by

Bent cold sidewalk, open the gate

I may be late but I can no longer wait

Stealing the crown that stood me up

I'm laying the table with dusty plates

Bent cold sidewalk, open the gate

I may be late but I can no longer wait

Playing the God to fix your gaze

I'm holding you firm on another day

Bent cold sidewalk, open the gate

I may be late but I can no longer wait