None so hopelessly blind As he who will not look None so hopelessly kind As he who did not see they took All that is fair, all that is sweet In this war against dissent And you shook your head And you took the knife instead But that's not what I meant
Into the snow grass, upon the hills Holy this and holy that But there's no friendly shapes here And the blood has made our dream Hard to light It's only rough magic There's nothing to it And I overplayed my hand And you never screamed Though you'd had the dream too
Into the snow grass, upon the hills Holy this and holy that But there's no friendly shapes here And the blood has made our dream Hard to light It's only rough magic There's nothing to it And I overplayed my hand And you never screamed Though you'd had the dream too