Let me into your grief Give me the keys to open your soul My ship follows no direction Sailing the cold seas of emptiness Touched by chilling winds that blow From the deepest regions of death The moaning of the dead Soaring through the waves To cross the river in the dream of its dream To feel the ecstasy of a newly found reality Have you ever touched the cold, parchmentlike skin of a phantasm, Its eyes burning with a promise of peace, inviting you to follow through? Wake up to life and behold The great dream of men Turned into rotten reality By the dumb power of the worms To cross the river in the dream of its dream To feel the ecstasy of a newly found reality
newly, dream, touched, reality, parchmentlike