Follow,
Follow closely.
Follow so closely a man down a street,
The same tested street that you yourself walk upon
That day by day
Stride upon, strife along, roll away your gentle tears upon.
Let them run along the same gutter; find this man.
Does he walk on a limp like a lonely man does?
When he stands there blankly, is his mind as clean as it seems
Or is it fogged by what he holds?
An envelope - does it distance you?
Do you still feel tuned to this guy like before?
For he wears the same mask and speaks the same tone,
Wears the same style suit and, yes, still alone.
Try to think of what is hidden.
Try and think before he unfolds the letter.
Now I know you’ll dream,
You dream like the rest of us,
But dreams like a bottled paradise in eternal peace and sanity
Fall through our minds as we descend to our reality.
How about if I turn those grand tables: less for me and more for you.
Because in the envelope does not hold his dreams, but his key.
The key to his hope,
The key to his fortune,
The key to his love,
To his own paradise.
The looking glass tilts towards the moon,
How it glints in their eyes
Those people astray, wanderers along a murky path.
You see from your soles your track of gold
And in the looking glass your pupils deep and meaningless.
Now carry on your morbid troubles as the blessed ones find their way
Or stand there with an envelope, the invitation, lead them close
As the man does so and so it does pay.