darkened mirror - the musical players lyrics
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down a mass of yellow sundays
that have lost their holy feel
and are now just empty hours
where folk feel ill at ease
we see our faces captured
staring through the door
our portraits hang in darkness hall
and through the golden pages
you can hear the prophet’s call
can you go to him completely?
can you go to him at all?
now look, our names appear
inscribed upon the wall
our pebbles wait on darkness shore
someone somewhere must surely know
something within has got to go, go, oh go, oh
listen, the mandragon wakes within me
all my goblin selvеs are leaving, leaving, oh lеaving, oh
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