Page 3
(loosely mimicking Edgar Allen Poe's The Bells)
I Behold the lights...
Beaming lights--Christmas lights
The glimmer and the shimmer and their merriment abounds
They dance about our heads
Then they float above the ground
And not a trace of melancholy
can in their sight be foun
For I behold the lights...
Gleaming lights--morning lights
The shining and the blinding and their sustenance surrounds
They ring in the brand new day
Yet do not make a sound
And in their bright rejoicing
gloom cannot be 'round
For I behold the lights...
Failing lights--Summer lights
The rising and the falling and their memory rebounds
For I recall what now is lost
And my head begins to pound
With the thought that maybe someday
their tale might be unwound
For I behold the lights...
Holy lights...
Wake up and hear the beating
Of an anxious heart
Wake up, the time is fleating
And it's almost time to start
Do you hear what we hear?
Do we feel the same?
'Cause now our thoughts are clearer
And our heads are in the game
Stand up and feel the gleaming
Of a thousand lights.
Stand up, you are not dreaming;
The end is in your sights
Do you hear what we hear?
Do we feel the same?
'Cause now our thoughts are clearer
And our heads are in the game
Right now, what are you thinking?
What's running through your mind?
Right now, when worlds are shrinking,
And you stand against mankind.
Do you hear what we hear?
Do we feel the same?
'Cause now our thoughts are clearer
And our heads are in the game
Why do the trees not sing of thee
Why are they quiet tonight
Why does the moon hide from me
Why does she not shine bright
Diana, thou art gone from here
Diana, thou hast flown
Thy father, Zeus, looks on in fear
At his daughter, fully grown
I dare say the night is young,
Dear goddess of the moon,
So let your beams shine strong
And leave us not, too soon
For, tonight we feast
In honor of thee,
The daughter of our king
Tonight we sing
Unto thee
Hear our voices ring
Tonight we dance
In thy grace
If thou will only shine
And spill thy light
On our feast
That we may see, to dine
A battlefield�laden full, with bodies, stiff and dead
One man stands against the scene, straight, but with bent head
He looks out and sees the faces of so many he once knew
The broken and the scattered limbs; the unlucky living few
Some cry in pain, some say a prayer, others bless with a last breath
The land they fought for�that their kin �d be free�even with their death
The tattered colors still bear strong, against a smoke-filled sky
And a weary ancient mourns his loss with one last heaving sigh