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From the album UNBORN CHILD (1974). |
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Do not scoff at love's bitter edges, for they in themselves bear witness. |
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To an age of bygone fancy, where tear-stained forests rushed into their evening to pout. |
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For they were without the grass they love to touch, they love to touch. |
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Ledges, ledges. Ledges, ledges. |
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Glistening in the sun, rainbow betrothed to the sky. On mystic wings I have soared past ledges. |
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And in myself I bear witness, to an age of bygone fancy. |
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Where burn-out stars hid their faces in shame. And planets turned their backs and were unholy. |
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And without reason and love. |
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Ledges, ledges. Ledges, ledges. |
