Oh, I have walked the pattern through the shadows and the thunder From the shadow worlds to amber where my life was pulled asunder But my life’s no less confusing now then it had been before And I cannot tell who’s with me, or against me, anymore
My brothers all are traders, and my sisters all are crazy With no consciences to speak of and with morals vauge and hazy But, then, who am I to try to put their actions to the test, When I have done the same and am no better than the rest?
Oh, I have walked the pattern to the place where shadows ended But that place was not in amber as the wizard’s hand pretended It was barren dead and lifeless there was nothing there to see But the shadow of a shadow of a shadow, that was me
Oh, I have walked the pattern ‘til my senses were confounded ‘Til my mind was in confusion by perplexities surrounded And illusions took the place of all the things I thought were real I can no longer tell for certain what I think or feel
[Interlude]
Oh, I have walked the pattern and the trump’s (?) a mind for using But there seems to be no mean in a pattern this confusion Are these shadows that I walk through just illusion that I see? Or have I become the shadow and are they reality?