The heart will always see the crime
Which is elusive to the eye;
For hearts can tell, -- truth lies in time.
And time will prove that truth does lie,
And words do bind us to our dreams,
Which then compose the fated plot.
And nothing’s ever what it seems
And nothing is but what is not.
Disgrace will wear a pretty face,
Which I abhor with all my love.
And blood does have that wicked taste
Of which one sip is not enough.
All sense is lost in reason’s battle
In which uncertainty has won
And even triumph’s overshadowed
By darkened fate of Scotland’s throne.
As minutes weave a solid web
To catch the dreamers in their flight,
God, give me room to take a step
To step away and look aside!