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It took a tall thing that could rise to any occasion. Something unspoken, a whisper always heard. And you and I cherish this thing more than forever. Smarted, it stings now in the past. And if we tear this kingdom down, tear it down -- let it be with a deserving and joyous sound. A whistling river in a spread of a desert drying. A mirror to reflect what you always must see. And paradise we agree was a portrait of the two months. Where the pictures are the fragile and the ivy is taking the trees. And if we tear this kingdom down, tear it down -- let it be with a deserving and joyous sound. In the Fall of this burned up basement, we'll mourn all that used to be. And a choke scrawls out the shape of our bodies. And the crows move faster than we can see. In the midst of this deadly hunger, I am starving for a feast. And from the distance a dust is rapidly approaching. Causing calm only after it cuts. And if we tear this kingdom down, tear it down -- let it be with a deserving and joyous sound.
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