Great men of ancient times, read the stars and like to shine, first we are and last we find, out of sight and out of mind
We board the boat of wings to fly the black sea of the sky
Weigh the hand that marks out time and tell me man whats on your mind
Tis nothing heavy that I ask, past the reeds raise the mast, navigate to the sun and row the beat on your drum, for the great procession has begun.
You wanted a revolution, you had a place to hide, you ran the institution, you even understood the otherside.
You are the hand of illusion, you sold the sun to the sky, you give us mystical fusion, does it really matter that most are still confused?
We sail the deserts as the sea beneath where rivers flow unseen, to the city hidden from the sun, where the secrets of creation lie
The galleon awaits at the cities heart and by the hour we must depart so row the beat on your drum for the great procession has begun.
Here comes the instigator he is the promulgator, will come to save you later but for now his life he must savor.
There goes the masturbator one hand holds his flavour, he is a navigator cold rains and sunny later.
Appear the agitator risk taking co-operator, pro-active dominator, his mind an incubator
The pipers songs are melodies he plays the tunes your harmony, the operas theme is an intrigue the bill of fare for you to eat.
Have you an inspiration? there for your gestation
there is no obligation or guarantee for sensation
Its said that men are socrates do you believe you are that deep?
Come meditate with weed and tea
The bill of fare compose the scene.
Please come and save me later.
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