I once seduced a princess from a foreign land,
carried her back, across the shifting sands,
necked in the moonlight on top of the world,
but then was I—from Heaven hurled,
for these are the days of reflections on steel,
of glass shards that damage, the soul, I feel.
They want everything that’s you, except who you are,
that which is a number, not immortal not like the stars.
All endings made painful, all pain makes an end.
The dead, silenced, will not accept their amends.
So I call for my quiver and I call for my sword,
I call for the greatest dragon, that hath ever roared.
We’ll fight them on the beaches, yes we’ll fight on the sands,
For truth-beauty-and-justice, together we’ll stand.
So if ever walking through a hallway, you spy a soft glimmer,
faint purple-green in a dewdrop on the window,
know that I’m with you, and know that I’m there,
you’re free, forever, you can escape from this snare.
The beauty of life is not something they’ll teach you;
dream, believe in magic, have hope, I beseech you.