You grasped a pot of gold,. now it looks like lead.. On your path of hunger. the gold lies still ahead.. . At the end of the rainbow. another rainbow starts..
There are too many stones. And life is just made of glass. Mark the words of the fool. He will tell you the truth, oh so cruel. . You say and I will believe.
Many men are sent on a quest for the crown. Searching all corners of the great land. The minstrel tries to sing as before. But, the jester, he laughs no more.