In this world the gods have lost their way. . Can't keep this picture from out of my mind. This fear hand in hand crossing innoncence, time. Surrounding creation they caught in a trap.
Faster moment spent spread tales of change within the sound. Counting form through rhythm electric freedom. Moves to counter-balance stars expound our conscience.
So the blue bird will fly o'er the world and the stars. In the moonlight, we pray for forgiveness that's ours. Only now can she rest from the singing of songs.
Anderson/Howe/Squire/White. September 11, 2001. . Soft as a dove. Touching the hand that lays next to me. Innocent light. Leading us through a moment in time.
We hit the blue fields. In the blue sedan we didn't get much further. Just as the sun was rising in the mist. We were all alone, we didn't need much more.