White Lodge

The day is passing out of reach
Night entombs me gracefully
Gentle Sun leans in
But my lips are dry and crumbling

Old thoughts rustle in the breeze upon the ground
(Grey-shroud figure, now small and frail)
Statue of past things
Adorn this brief, ringed emptiness of trees

Statue of past things, bathing in cool starlight forever
This world of green light, where does the earth go when it dies

They are passing out of reach
Through the trees and to the sea
White ships light my memory
Wish I didn't live asleep
The day is passing out of reach
When will I get back on my feet

There once was a beautiful place of great goodness
Deep within the endless firs
Golden light, shimmering laughter of spirits
And when it rained, life was free

Deep within the slumbering stone lights a flicker
Of a distant age that forgot it here
A gathering of its embrittled senses
Suddenly an urge to see

Deep within the endless firs of the forest
(The day is passing out of reach)
The sleeping stone was remembering
(When will I get back on my feet?)
Look around, find your home unfamiliar
(A momentary vision; red curtain flutters; no wind)
Upon the ground, reclaimed parts of me
Lift my head
(A momentary vision; Great Owl, won't you sing?)
I lift my head
Look around
(Am I alone in darkness?)
I look ahead
(The veil of trees; do not wander)
I take a step
(You must not leave your station)
I don't turn around
(Great Owl, won't you guide my fall and protect me from waking?)
I'm real again
(Now you're a fading vision)
I'm awake again
(Shaken from a dream)

Faster now, I'm walking now
Starts to rain, don't know the way
I'm running now, there's light ahead
Rain turns to glass, push it aside and find a white door



Credits
Writer(s): George Barbera
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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