"You, sitting in this room, you think you're really here
Well, you've persuaded yourself that way
You've acted it so damn well that you KNOW this is the real world
But you're playing it
We haven't realized that life and death, black and white, good and evil, being and non-being, come from the same center
They imply each other
What you are basically, deep, deep down, far, far in, is simply the fabric and structure of existence itself"
Books burn and stories will fade
The strength in our arms can't fight against change
The wind's tide keeps rumbling on
Look hard at the thunderous clouds
There's freedom inside, whispering out
Calling you, calling you home
Saying, ooooh, time will pass, and reduce to ash, your bones
Ooooh, in a lightning flash, what fills the gap?
Of when it hits, and when you know
"What exists, reality itself is gorgeous, it is the fullness of total joy."
Facts hold your feet to the ground
Mind wanders off, chasing the sound
Of the storm clouds that whispered of home
From in between the truth and what we see
The thunder calls out what we choose to perceive
Echoing the size of our world
Ooooh, time will pass, and reduce to ash, our bones
Ooooh, in a lightning flash, what fills the gap?
Of what is real, and what we know
"There's no point just in sustaining bliss
Let's suppose that you were able, every night, to dream any dream you wanted to dream, and that you could, for example, have the power within one night to dream 75 years of time
And you would, naturally, as you began on this adventure of dreams, you would fulfill all your wishes
You would have every kind of pleasure you could conceive
And after several nights of 75 years of total pleasure each, you would say, 'Now let's have a surprise
Let's have a dream which isn't under control.'
Then you would get more and more adventurous, and you would make further and further gambles as to what you would dream, and finally you would dream where you are now."
