Distant hands in foreign lands Are turning hidden wheels Causing things to come about Which no one seems to feel All invisible from where we stand The connections come to pass And though too strange to comprehend They affect us nonetheless, yes Once again a time of change Oh the change makes music And the children will dance See the pieces of the picture Rearrange themselves It feels just like a symphony to me With nothing left to chance Just look over your shoulder Its out of your hands, its over for now Leave behind what you can You can always return The rhythm remains unbroken, unspoken But loud and clear Its a slow vibration, migration Oh Mystery muse, how I hunger for an answer Unsung song, how I long to play the changes Hidden rhythm, havent I always been your dancer? Sacred secrets of the meaning to my dreaming Migration Migration
migration, rhythm, hidden, change, nonetheless