. . .
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A certain measure of innocence
Willing to appear naive
A certain degree of imagination
A measure of make-believe
A certain degree of surrender
To the forces of light and heat
A shot of satisfaction
In a willingness to risk defeat
Celebrate the moment
As it turns into one more
Another chance at victory
Another chance to score
The measure of the moment
Is a difference of degree
Just one little victory
A spirit breaking free
One little victory
The greatest act can be
One little victory
A certain measure of righteousness
A certain amount of force
A certain degree of determination
Daring on a different course
A certain amount of resistance
To the forces of the light and love
A certain measure of tolerance
. . .
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It's not the heat
It's the inhumanity
Plugged into the sweat of a summer street
Machine gun images pass
Like malice through the looking glass
The slackjaw gaze
Of true profanity
Feels more like surrender than defeat
If culture is the curse of the thinking class
If culture is the curse of the thinking class
ceiling unlimited
world so wide
turn and turn again
feeling unlimited
still unsatisfied
changes never end
The vacant laugh [sung as "vacant smile"]
Of true insanity
Dressed up in the mask of Tragedy
Programmed for the guts and glands
Of idle minds and idle hands
I rest my case -
Or at least my vanity
Dressed up in the mask of Comedy
If laughter is a straw for a drowning man
If laughter is a straw for a drowning man
ceiling unlimited
windows open wide
look and look again
feeling unlimited
eyes on the prize
changes never end
winding like an ancient river
the time is now again
hope is like an endless river
. . .
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Pack up all those phantoms
Shoulder that invisible load
Keep on riding north and west
Haunting that wilderness road
Like a ghost rider
Carry all those phantoms
Through bitter wind and stormy skies
From the desert to the mountain
From the lowest low to the highest high
Like a ghost rider
Keep on riding North and West
Then circle South and East
Show me beauty, but there is no peace
For the ghost rider
Shadows on the road behind
Shadows on the road ahead
Nothing can stop you now
There's a shadow on the road behind
There's a shadow on the road ahead
Nothing can stop you now
Sunrise in the mirror
Lightens that invisible load
Riding on a nameless quest
Haunting that wilderness road
Like a ghost rider
Just an escape artist
Racing against the night
A wandering hermit
Racing toward the light
From the White Sands
To the Canyonlands
To the redwood stands
To the Barren Lands
Sunrise on the road behind
Sunset on the road ahead
There's nothing to stop you now
. . .
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A wave toward the clearing the sky
All this time we're talking and sharing our Rational View
A billion other voices are spreading other news
All this time we're living and trying to understand
Why a billion other choices are making their demands
Talk of a Peaceable Kingdom
Talk of a time without fear
The ones we wish would listen
Are never going to hear
Justice against The Hanged Man
Knight of Wands against the hour
Swords against the kingdom
Time against The Tower
All this time we're shuffling and laying out all our cards
While a billion other dealers are slipping past our guards
All this time we're hoping and praying we all might learn
While a billion other teachers are teaching them how to burn
Dream of a Peaceable Kingdom
Dream of a time without war
The ones we wish would hear us
Have heard it all before
A wave toward the clearing sky
A wave toward the clearing sky
The Hermit against The Lovers
Or the Devil against the Fool
Swords against the kingdom
The Wheel against the rules
All this time we're burning like bonfires in the dark
A billion other blazes are shooting off their sparks
Every spark a drifting ember of desire
To fall upon the earth and spark another fire
A homeward angel on the fly
. . .
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Like the fly on the wheel, who says
"What a lot of dust we're raising"
Are you under the illusion
That you're part of this scheme?
Seems like a lifetime ago
You could look with pride
On your world of dreams
What is the meaning of this?
And the stars look down
What are you trying to do?
And the stars look down
Was it something I said
And the stars look down
Like the rat in a maze who says,
"Watch me choose my own direction"
Are you under the illusion
The path is winding your way?
Are you surprised by confusion
When it leads you astray?
Have you lived a lifetime today -
Or do you feel like you just got carried away?
What is the meaning of this?
And the stars look down
What are you trying to do?
And the stars look down
Was it something I said?
And the stars look down
Something you'd like me to do?
And the stars look down
. . .
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Here's a little trap
That sometimes catches everyone
When today's as far as we can see
Faith in bright tomorrows
giving way to resignation
That's how it is - how it's going to be
It's such a cloudy day
Seems we'll never see the sun
Or feel the day has possibilities
Frozen in the moment -
the lack of imagination
Between how it is and how it ought to be
Here's a little trap
That sometimes trips up everyone
When we tire of our own company
Sometimes we're the last to see beyond the day's frustrations
That's how it is - how it's going to be
It's such a cloudy day
Seems we'll never see the sun
I feel the day is all uncertainty
Burning in the moment - trapped by the desperation
Between how it is and how it ought to be
Foot upon the stair
Shoulder to the wheel
You can't tell yourself not to care
You can't tell yourself how to feel
That's how it is
. . .
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Stratospheric traces of our transitory flight
Trails of condensation held
in narrow paths of white
The sun is turning black
The world is turning gray
All the stars fade from the night
The oceans drain away
Horizon to Horizon
memory written on the wind
Fading away, like an hourglass, grain by grain
Swept away like voices in a hurricane
In a vapor trail
Atmospheric phases make the transitory last
Vaporize the memories that freeze the fading past
Silence all the songbirds
Stilled by the killing frost
Forests burn to ashes
Everything is lost
Washed away like footprints in the rain
. . .
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The way out
Is the way in
The way out
Is the way in...
Out of touch
With the weather and the wind direction
With the sunrise
And the phases of the moon
Out of touch
With life in the land of the loving
With the living night
And the darkness at high noon
You can never break the chain
There is never love without pain
A gentle hand, a secret touch on the heart
Out of sync
With the rhythm of my own reactions
With the things that last
And the things that come apart
Out of sync
With love in the land of the living
A gentle hand, a secret touch on the heart
A healing hand, a secret touch on the heart
There is never love without pain
. . .
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On certain nights
When the angles are right
And the moon is a slender crescent
Its circle shows
In a ghostly glow
Of earthly luminescence
Earthshine
A beacon in the night
I can raise my eyes to
Earthshine
Earthshine
A jewel out of reach
Form a dream to rise to
Earthshine
Floating high
In the evening sky
I see my faint reflection
Pale facsimile
Like what others see
When they look in my direction
Earthshine
Stretching out your hand
Full of starlit diamonds
Earthshine
Reflected light
To another's sight
And the moon tells a lover's story
My borrowed face
And my third-hand grace
Only reflect your glory
You're still out of reach
Form a dream to rise to
. . .
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I wasn't walking on water
I was standing on a reef
When the tide came in
Swept beneath the surface
Lost without a trace
No hope at all
No hope at all
Oh - sweet miracle
Oh - sweet miracle
Of life
I wasn't walking with angels
I was talking to myself
Rising up to the surface
Raging against the night
Starless night
Oh - sweet miracle
Love's sweet miracle
Of life
Oh salvation
Oh salvation
I wasn't praying for magic
I was hiding in plain sight
Rising up from the surface
. . .
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Did I have a dream?
Or did the dream have me?
Set off on a night-sea journey
Without memory or desire
Drifting through lost latitudes
With no compass and no chart
Flying through hallucination
Distant voices, signal fires
Lighting up my unconscious
And the secret places of the heart
Dream - Temporary madness
Dream - A voice in the wilderness
Dream - Unconscious revelations
The morning says, the answer is yes
Floating through a darkened mirror
Deep reflections in disguise
Soaring through lost altitudes
Without wonder, without fear
Symbols on a field of visions
Behind the curtain of sleeping eyes
On the instant of waking
Another world of dreams appears
Dream - A walk in the wilderness
Dream - Unconscious recreation
. . .
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(part iv of "fear")
The city crouches, steaming
In the early morning half-light
The sun is still a rumor
And the night is still a threat
Slipping through the dark streets
And the echoes and the shadows
Something stirs behind me
And my palms begin to sweat
Sometimes I freeze - until the light comes
Sometimes I fly - into the night
Sometimes I fight - against the darkness
Sometimes I'm wrong - sometimes I'm right
Coiled for the spring
Or caught like a creature in the headlights
Into a desperate panic
Or a tempest of blind fury
Like a cornered beast
Or a conquering hero
The menace threatens, closing
And I'm frozen in the shadows
I'm not prepared to run away
And I'm not prepared to fight
I can't stand to reason
Or surrender to a reflex
I will trust my instincts
Or surrender to my fright
Sometimes we freeze - until the light comes
Sometimes we're wrong - and sometimes we're right
Sometimes we fight - against the darkness
Sometimes we fly - into the night
Blood running cold
Mind going down into a dark night
Of a desperate panic
Or a tempest of blind fury
Like a cornered beast
Or a conquering hero
Sometimes I freeze
Sometimes I fight
Sometimes I fly
. . .
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It's not a place
It's a yearning
It's not a race
It's a journey
It's not an act
It's attraction
It's not a style
It's an action
It's a dream for the waking
It's a flower touched by flame
It's a gift for the giving
It's a power with a hundred names
Surge of energy, spark of inspiration
The breath of love is electricity
Maybe Time is bird in flight
Endlessly mocking
Here we come out of the cradle
Endlessly rocking
Endlessly rocking
It's a hand
That rocks the cradle
It's a motion
That swings the sky
It's method on the edge of madness
It's a balance on the edge of a knife
It's a smile on the edge of sadness
It's a dance on the edge of life
. . .
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