In a churchyard by a riverLazing in the haze of middayLaughing in the grasses and the graves Yellow bird, you are not longIn singing and in flying onIn laughing and in leaving Willow weeping in the waterWaving to the river daughtersSwaying in the ripples and the reeds On a trip to Cirrus MinorSaw a crater in the SunA thousand miles of moonlight later

I was standing by the NileWhen I saw the lady smileI would take her for a whileFor a while Like tears wept like a childHow her golden hair was blowing wildThen she spread her wings to flyFor to fly Soaring high above the breezesGoing always where she pleasesShe will make it to the island in the Sun I will follow in her shadowAnd I'll watch her from my windowOne day I will catch her eye She is calling from the deepSummoning my soul to endless sleepShe is bound to drag me downDrag me down

We smile and smileWe smile and smileLaughter echoes in your eyes We climb and climbWe climb and climbFootfalls softly in the pines We cry and cryWe cry and crySadness passes in a while We roll and rollWe roll and rollHelp me roll away the stone

Heavy hung the canopy of blueShade my eyes and I can see youWhite is the lightThat shines through the dress that you wore She laid in the shadow of her waveHazy were the visions overplayedSunlight on her eyesBut moonshine made her blind every time Green is the colour of her kindQuickness of the eye deceives the mindEnvy is the bondBetween the hopeful and the damned

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The path you tread is narrowAnd the drop is sheer and very highThe ravens all are watchingFrom a vantage point nearbyApprehension creepingLike a tube-train up your spineWill the tightrope reach the end?Will the final couplet rhyme? And it's high time, CymbalineIt's high time, CymbalinePlease, wake me A butterfly with broken wingsIs falling by your sideThe ravens all are closing inThere's nowhere you can hideYour manager and agentAre both busy on the phoneSelling coloured photographsTo magazines back home And it's high time, CymbalineIt's high time, CymbalinePlease, wake me The lines converging where you standThey must have moved the picture planeThe leaves are heavy around your feetYou hear the thunder of the trainSuddenly it strikes youThat they're moving into rangeAnd Doctor StrangeIs always changing size And it's high time, CymbalineIt's high time, CymbalinePlease, wake me And it's high time, CymbalineIt's high time, CymbalinePlease, wake me

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I'm so afraid of mistakes that I madeShaking every time that I awakeI feel like a cardboard cutout manSo build me a time when the characters rhymeAnd the storyline is kind I've aged and aged since the first pageI've lived every line that you wroteTake me down, take me downFrom the shelf above your headAnd build me a time when the characters rhymeAnd the storyline is kind I live far enough on the shelf like the restAnd the epilogue reads like a sad songPlease, pick up your camera and use me againAnd build me a time when the characters rhymeAnd the storyline is kindYeah!

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