|
Lines In The Sand |
|
Dream Theater |
|
Falling Into Infinity |
|
Music: Dream Theater |
|
Sometimes, for a moment of bliss |
|
And the passion, we're craving |
|
There's a message we miss |
|
Sometimes when the spirits left alone |
|
We must believe in something |
|
To find if we've grown |
|
Tragic reflex, shattered calm |
|
Static progress, senses gone |
|
Numb awareness, final psalm |
|
Swept away with the tide |
|
Through the holes in my hands |
|
Crown of thorns at my side |
|
Drawing lines in the sand |
|
Sometimes, if you're perfectly still |
|
You can hear the virgin weeping |
|
For the savior of your will |
|
Sometimes, your castles in the air |
|
And the fantasies you're seeking |
|
Are the crosses you bear |
|
Sacred conflict, blessed prize |
|
Weeping crosses, stainless eyes |
|
Desperate addict, faith disguised |
|
Swept away with the tide |
|
Through the holes in my hands |
|
Crown of thorns at my side |
|
Drawing lines in the sand |
|
We fabricate our demons |
|
Invite them into our homes |
|
Have supper with the aliens |
|
And fight the war alone |
|
We conjure up our skeletons |
|
Enlist the den of thieves |
|
Frightened from our closets |
|
Then sewn upon our sleeves |
|
In the stream of consciousness |
|
There is a river crying |
|
Living comes much easier |
|
Once we admit |
|
We're dying |
|
Sometimes, in the wreckage of our wake |
|
There's a bitterness we harbor |
|
And hate for hatred's sake |
|
Sometime we dig an early grave |
|
And crucify our instincts |
|
For the hope we couldn't save |
|
Sometimes a view from sinless eyes |
|
Centers our perspective |
|
And pacifies our cries |
|
Sometimes the anguish we survive |
|
And the mysteries we nurture |
|
Are the fabrics of our lives |
|
Swept away with the tide |
|
Through the holes in my hands |
|
Crown of thorns at my side |
|
Drawing lines in the sand |