[Verse 1]

At the dead of night, I woke

With the sense that my dreams were escaping

All uncannily unspoken

Like words at the tip of a foreign tongue....

[Verse 2]

As for language, I have none

To express quite what strangeness overwhelms me:

Something's changed and something tells me

To be still in the roar of the distant stars

The night's full of fire, ice and water;

By day I'll have clay in my hands

[Bridge]

The book is open at a well-thumbed mark

The odds are stacked that I'm facing

Eyes grown accustomed to light and dark

Can't catch the shadows they're chasing

Open, my heart, to the vital spark –

A disordered rhythm is racing

It's a danse macabre I'm tracing

[Instrumental Break]

[Verse 3]

As the fire feeds the flame

As the tongue finds expression in its flickering

Does each breath inform a name

To be dispersed just as soon as it's exhaled?

Was it to myself I came

Or to some other strange and parallel existence?

Oh, will I ever see tomorrow

To wake and begin it again?

[Bridge]

Open, the book at a well-read page

Hope triumphs over expectation;

Open, the secrets of seer and sage

In awe-inspired anticipation....

[Bridge]

Open, my mind in the body's cage

Unchained in consecration;

Open, my eyes, to the wider stage

The firestorm of liberation –

The night in conflagration

The night in conflagration

[Verse 4]

With a shiver down my spine

I come back to the place where I started;

The sea of consciousness has parted

But stranded is all that I feel for sure

As nightsight declines into darkness

By day there'll be clay in my hands

I may feel the clay in my hands