|
Crimson flames tied through my years |
|
Flowing high and mighty trapped |
|
Countless fire and flaming roads |
|
Using ideas as my maps |
|
We'll meet on edges soon, said I |
|
Proud 'neath heated brow |
|
Ah, but I was so much older then |
|
I'm younger than that now |
|
Half-wracked prejudice leaped forth |
|
Rip down all hate, I screamed |
|
Lies that life is black and white |
|
Spoke from my skull, I dreamed |
|
Romantic flanks of musketeers |
|
Foundationed deep, somehow |
|
Ah, but I was so much older then |
|
I'm younger than that now |
|
In a soldier's stance I aimed my hand |
|
At the mongrel dogs who teach |
|
Fearing not I'd become my enemy |
|
In the instant that I preach |
|
Sisters fled by confusion boats |
|
Mutiny from stern to bow |
|
Ah, but I was so much older then |
|
I'm younger than that now |
|
Ah, but I was so much older then |
|
I'm younger than that now |
|
My guard stood hard when abstract threats |
|
Too noble to neglect |
|
Deceived me into thinking |
|
I had something to protect |
|
Good and bad, I define these terms |
|
Quite clear, no doubt, somehow |
|
Ah, but I was so much older then |
|
I'm younger than that now |
