Hark, can you hear the whisper'd word? A builders plan yet laid Green eyes streaked with some thought of debts she hath not paid Architechture of desire, magnificent allure. Mary of the gentle sort, Rash thought filled with a'more. So speak not ye' of daemons, Of lips a burn'n shade. There much to be spar'd aloft, Within her sacred glade. Trees oaken loft above a sky, Blue green among your hopes. Tread not now softly yet, Hope you alone doth float. Where, here among the Out Of, Dreams cast down of fear. Here among the might-haves, Half similies, half leers. Here is Walters Jabberwock, A bale of warbling ire. And so the hand of God has forged, So burning bryte the tyger. Sit back umong the Lorabid, Crunch now along the hand. And morn ye not of shadowed doubt, It's cast out of this land. Now I'm through, my so I say, Heed well the verse I lay. Else not quickly to your grave, I wish some other day.
Sing down the stars! Speak a language of joy and light! Cup your hands against the empty air and hold within your grasp the universe For tonight is the gift my child. Tonight is the beginning of the wonderment. Can you see the words within the air? Can you feel the heartbeat of a world? So go and dance without redemption, live without hate and pain. Listen to the music, and find your heart again.