|If it were within our power,
|Beyond the reach of slavish pride.
|To no longer harbour grievances,
|Behind the mask's opportunists facade.
|We could welcome the responsibilty
|Like a long lost friend,
|And re-establish the kingdom of laughter
|In the dolls house once again.
|For time has imprisoned us
|In the order of our years,
|In the discipline of our ways
|And in the passing of momentary stillness
|We can view our chaos in motion
|And the subsequent collisions of fools
|Well versed in the subtle art of slavery.
|In The Kingdom Of The Blind The One-Eyed Are Kings
|Dead Can Dance