Barefoot and weary we came to a valley Turned to the east and beheld the view Curious to measure the fever within Off we went trundling to find our sin Raiments of crystal reflecting pretension Up from the shoulders of one and all No one could move there was nowhere to go Slowly we died in the wind and snow Born from the carnage and cast into darkness Hailed are the priests of duality Fragrant of blossom and deadly the thorn Some born from sorrow and some from scorn Slowly we walked to the sound of the sunlight Down to the valley as morning grew Show me the words I was turning to say When came the sting of my tasteless game?
valley, trundling, raiment, slowly, pretension