From the recording Without a Fight

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sleeping, awake to find the missing key
come creeping out of troubled times like these
revisions for those who have made a choice
decisions cast out by a merging voice
now it comes down to what is left
all the things you thought we might forget, per chance

young and able, with the dreams of forgotten times
on the table , bread for the mouth and my heads for the wine
complications, follow me in the gentle night
dedication, to the darkness as I wait for light
and in this time of refuge whom shall I seek
all the wisdom lay weary and worn out in the street, at the feet

of progression, life through this patterned time
successions , find a new way through these concrete vines
confirmation, as the morning sun greets the earth
generations, not sure exactly what theyre worth
after all we are all immagrants and we're all pantomimes
all searching for something all trying to find our own true line

broken message, encrypted by its own design
and the answer awaits for only the rightful mind