a river Lovely moonchild Dreaming in the shadows of the willow Talking to the trees of the cobweb strange Sleeping on the steps of a fountain Waving
... you are the crucified division (echo) You are... you are crucified division (echo) You are... you are the crucified division (echo) You are... crucified division (echo
hear the music ringing It finds an echo (echo) In my soul (in my soul) How can I keep from singing The piece of Christ makes fresh my heart A fountain
fact So baptise me in the stars And wrap me in nighttime Moon blue Pupil my sight with orange balls of light And echo my plight Through the corridors
consciousness is gone Imagine life without any end Now we can start a over again Such wicked science affecting us all Out of control!! Fountain of youth is here Feel the fountain
The sun was going down over Echo Park Wet raven hair glowing in the dark And that's when the fever would rise And Lord, what a look in her eyes From
An abyss womb stretched wide open, exposed to retaliate With the stigma feasting upon your flesh I wish you well Thorns from the fountains of fate licking
out of reach We visioned in a dream. But the dark is drawing in their beauty, And for them I would steal the light From the glorious fountain of
through me A silent entity never looking back I won't dare Evil eyes staring through the walls of stone I feared I travel not alone Laughter's echoes
Spread your wings, flyin over frozen mountains, crystal rivers, and geyser fountains, Driftin above China's mystic forests, float with the breeze across
Roll through these towns, over seas, over mountains Lucky to work when work is scarce Father must feed, must provide, he must fountain Left my heart
second class And watched in the blue light Strangers beside me, strangers across from me They've closed their eyes So far away from home the empty stations echo
the whore, Desperate for more in his assault upon the mountain. Little man, his youth a fountain. Overdrafted and still counting. Vernacular, verbose
are scared to freedom and love: Yet, caledonia; beloved are thy mountains, Round their white summits though elements war; Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing fountains
gone Now another day is starting Still I linger on with Blue Champagne Purple shadows and blue champagne With the echoes that still remain I keep a blue rendezvous Bubbles rise Like a fountain
to go Your life's an open gate (CHORUS) 'Le bon et 'le mal These are the voices We nous somme liberti' We make the choices Echoes of laughter
Picasso leans out of the window, looks out on the ghetto Changing the shapes he sees His old friend El Greco, soon is expected Now just an echo of Spanish
bright sunshine o'er valley and mountain, Still warbles the blackbird his note from the tree; Still trembles the moonbeam on streamlet and fountain,