Cornwall and the harbor
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Where witches went mad more than once and
|
Until this day
|
In dreams at least
|
The lighthouse at Lost Christabel
|
Squat and hugely tilts
|
Upon the strand where Grandad's house was built
|
And having stood the test of time
|
The starry gale the bloody tide
|
Grandad's house though gaped with hooks
|
And filled with books
|
Could stand no more until
|
A certain prophecy
|
Once read - now stood
|
Before the world fulfilled
|
|
Now of these books in Grandad's keep
|
Some of them were new but mostly they were old
|
And the oldest was a scroll
|
A prophecy that read
|
When the riddle begins
|
The story will end
|
|
August the First 1892
|
And in the guise of destiny
|
Grandad quit Cornwall
|
";I'm a captain of a ship
|
My ship is charmed, and called Plutonia.";
|
|
Stories on land, storms at sea
|
'Tween 1892 and '93
|
When Grandad sailed for Mexico
|
|
Ships charmed and ordinary
|
Sailed the glidepath to the sun
|
And when the sun proved false
|
As it always does
|
Some of them would be lost
|
And some would sail back home
|
It was no star
|
But a magna of illusion
|
I mean by that
|
The mirror found
|
In the chamber of jade grown like a seed
|
Deep within the ground
|
The mirror found
|
By one man
|
So on and off again
|
He sailed the Europe's rim
|
On and off, off and on
|
Until his time had come
|
|
Through tears and smiles
|
The last domain
|
The rods of broken crystal
|
On and off, and off again
|
Until his time had come
|
Late to the story that had been
|
But early to the riddle not yet begun
|
|
August the First 1893
|
The charmed ship Plutonia
|
Sailed like a ray into Cornwall
|
And none too soon it seems
|
|
That night the Captain's granddaughter
|
Would celebrate her birthday
|
";I've come a long way,"; said the Captain
|
";From Lost Christabel this night
|
Accompanied by my dog familiar
|
To blast your rafters with my surprise!
|
Granddaughter, it's a foreign mirror
|
Taken from the jungle by crime!";
|
|
Stories on land, storms at sea
|
'Tween 1892 and '93
|
When Grandad sailed for Mexico
|
|
When tables collapse
|
And floors have filled
|
And the party's over, it's all over
|
Sea-dogs and rockers will dwell on doom
|
I've warped the stuff of ground
|
What seems to be is not
|
Behind closed eyes
|
Realize your sight
|
Mine, granddaughter, proves a surprise
|
More light than sun
|
More dark than night then
|
More a snare than lust
|
|
-----------------
|
Magna Of Illusion
|
Blue Oyster Cult |