Will the king play the fool for a day For his sake, for his kingdom, for man Does the horse hurl away its rider Who's strolling through life without a plan Will the rich rest on top of their glory On a journey over the snows Is a confession a part of the story When a new life begins to show Only those in jest will know. Are we deaf to the creature of the land Whose voice is lost between the trees Are the limits of our understanding Pale dividing lines absorbed in seas Where are those who in the dawn Dress in antlers and begin to row Will the end, tell us the tale Or simply merge us in the flow Only those in jest will know. A prison keeps us grounded It is a room, with no door The wall is being pounded And we lie, on the floor Although there is no door, We try to see To nurture our minds In silence and confusion We are left inside alone III. The king dressed in white antlers The horse denied its rider The rich were frozen in the snows The confession, a part of the show The creature spoke inside their minds Pillars formed up from the seas In the dawn those truths were mine And the end enclosed me Transcending time