Friday, February 25, 2011

Moksa - lyrics

Seems in tune with the plan
that my heart is cold as man,
and sightless men are the puppeteers
of love.
I'm going to find a place
beyond this crowded lump of space,
some divine land with blue skies

Gripping silence overwhelms
my voice inside.
My eyes should say
What I'm thinking of.
So I'm going to find some space
outside the human race
far away from the puppeteers
of love.

Gonna throw my inner child
out to the wild,
and turn my back
when the choir starts to sing.
I'll be like a bird,
or the essence of a word
when I find the time to cut these
heart shaped strings.

I'm swirling all around
on a thunderstorm.
When lightning strikes
it burns my wings.
My thoughts of peace would erase
without the notion of the place
I'm gonna go when I cut these
heart shaped strings.

The path is so long
in the moment of the song,
an ongoing trial with juries
made of doves.
Judge, jury, and prosecutor
yell "guilty" like a computer,
the sentence passed by the puppeteers
of love.

Crying acts of sorrow
grow and sprout around.
So this is when a push
becomes a shove.
Out of tears and goodbyes
my freedom will rise
upon the death of the puppeteers
of love.

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