Must it be?
Dawn silence breaks
On every street a voice
First one word then another
The suns rejoice awakens that monstrous thing...

And so returns the dragon of day to be met by everyday knights.
Questing for the Holy Grail of something profound to say.
As sure as death in this shattered existence
Through the gates of uncertainty the ruins of eternity lay

Fragments of stone observation
Into the wormhole of nothing new
The mortality of conversation
A dead language spoken, that's speaking to you.

I speak with no one who returns not my precious words, one by one
I feel for no one who lives not in my precious worlds in the sun
I'll show you reason in the face of conformity that cries treason
I am but but nothing to the meaningless moments of which I am king

My speech drawn out
Midas touch of air adoration
A body of language
Word of mouth propagation

Guilty as charged, a diabolical means of restoration
Children of circumstance, Feather of justice condemnation
Phychostasiastic melancholia - The weighing of the heart intonation
"Be a soul like living star"
Renewed in exhaltation.

A certain rhythm that summons Casual interaction
Prone to overhear jargon of flesh,
our thought pronunciation.

I care not to stay for I cannot walk another day in the sun
I hope that for your sake,
You heed some precious words, if only one,
words are for you to make
Only one,life's words are for you to take.

Never looking about this wondrous curtain call of day
Hurried lives making one gasp
First one step then another
Silence disturbs the sound
Wearily too, I depart
For much has been said in this sodden art of words
and night time is coming down, yes it must be...
Sodden art of words...