Far from the worn path of reason
|
Further away from the sane
|
He battles in shadows and demons
|
Fighting to light the way
|
|
And the dust and the dirt cloud his vision
|
Onward he rides unafraid
|
He fights the good fight for good reason
|
A star that refuses to fade
|
|
Still he braves his path...
|
While windmills only laugh
|
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She was wounded and wild when he found her
|
He saw her through child's eyes
|
She fell for the spell he was under
|
Each day a brand new surprise
|
|
And she watches with strange curiosity
|
She wants so much to believe
|
Trying to break the chains of reality
|
Dying to set herself free
|
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Though he may appear tattered and broken
|
His clothes are shabby and bare
|
Still he glows like the light from a candle
|
With passion of one who still cares
|
|
There was always a rhyme to the reason
|
Peering out from tired eyes
|
The truth finally came in treason
|
So wrong, but so justified...
|
So wrong, but so justified...
|
Windmills close their eyes.
|
|
-----------------
|
Windmills
|
| Blackmore's Night |
