By horse, by rail, by land, by sea, our journey starts
|
Two men incensed by one man's journey from the past
|
In Iceland, where the mountain stood with pride
|
They set off with their guide
|
To reach the mountain side
|
Roped as one for safety through the long descent
|
Into the crater of volcanic rock they went
|
Look up from our telescopic laair,
|
One star for us to share,
|
We continue on our prayer.
|
Crystals of opaque quartz, studded limpid tears,
|
Forming magic chandeliers, lighting blistered galleries.
|
|
-----------------
|
The Journey
|
| Rick Wakeman |
