It seems to me
it's all a vying for control
who's to cow before which master
Who's to rise and who's to fade
and who's to sell his soul
who's to die before we cast her
dream in gold
But in the earth
of every gifted heart
stirs the solitude of knowing
any compromise to rise
to quell, to kill the art
leaving truth and airwaves growing
worlds apart
So you cry
anguish at the sky
and lies and chains to dust
Leaving you
whispering but true
dreams that you can trust
to find you
In the stillness
under Northern sky
silent certainties are gathered
in the prison of a song
no other heart would sigh
yet so free that you would rather
let them fly
Still you cry
beauty at the sky
and lies and chains to dust
Leaving you
whispering but true
dreams that we can trust
to see you
Thus, again
you mend your broken arrow
But, for every
tender song that's sung
far too many are forgotten
and for every
tender heart that's won
far too many will be lost and
left unsung
