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These are the images I arrange |
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To fill in my report on you |
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Holiness, mystery, disturbing and strange |
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Obscuring the point of my view |
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Everyone seems to know just what you are |
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But I never seem to break through |
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Forgive me please if I can't see that far |
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Life's dulling the point of my view |
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Chorus: |
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Half light, coming through the dark glass darkly |
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Half light, where faith and doubt remain |
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Half light, tattoo scars where shadows mark me |
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Half light, I don't expect you to explain |
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This is the passage I undertake |
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Over the epoch and phase |
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The terror and sweetness of history and fate |
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The last word on the very last page |
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Everyone seems to think they've got it made |
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That you're on a rack by the door |
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It's true, I don't know much except I am saved |
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From falling through cracks in the floor |
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(Chorus) |
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Tomorrow I'm planning to write the great book |
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In which I will capture our time |
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Set forth the fury, the sound and the look |
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If I could just make up my mind |
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Everyone seems to think you're on their side |
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But I don't think you're that small |
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How could they see it when reason has died |
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We haven't a clue to it all |
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(Chorus) |
