Way of Ever‐Branching Paths Songtext
von Circle Takes the Square
Way of Ever‐Branching Paths Songtext
At your doorstep
Cloaked in negative space
First frost aches
To lay its claim
At the threshold
Between without and within
First foot prints
Disgrace the virgin soil
Ignoring refusal
Let the winter in
Indian Summer
Defiant forever
Let winter have its way
Through hollow insides
Made of branching halls
First step falls
Vanishing reasons
I chose this course
Death is in season
Inward to source
INITIATION
Vanishing reasons
I chose this course
DISINTEGRATION
Death is in Season
Step inside...
One thousand faces
Stare back from their fractured origin
In turn
Turn another corner
And lose my place
A blue print for disorder
The Way of Disarray
Backward glare
Burnished obsidian walls
Reflect the endings
That will never...
Unfold
Fold the corners over
To hold my place
The panic feels so familiar
In a breath-work maze
Clear the air
Ceremonial smoke rings
Fill the creases
Where the trauma collects
You better keep your thought forms clean
How we, the Conjured, seek
To breach the compass of this dream
Illumination
Elimination
Tangental slipstreams
Derail our train of thought
Stationed in fog
Composing
Decompositions
In constant revision
Infinite indecision
Encaged
Within a finite space
Help me hide it away
Under thin coats of cracking paint
Under smothering soundscapes
Where every layer I′ve made
Competes for a place
Enchanting parlor tricks
And slights of hand
Made me a god
Here in obscurity
Confined to making believe
So help me wish it away...
But how long
Yeah, how long
Before I'd beg to bring it back into life?
To bring it into the blue grey
The Grey matters
Matters of the Maker
Cloaked in negative space
First frost aches
To lay its claim
At the threshold
Between without and within
First foot prints
Disgrace the virgin soil
Ignoring refusal
Let the winter in
Indian Summer
Defiant forever
Let winter have its way
Through hollow insides
Made of branching halls
First step falls
Vanishing reasons
I chose this course
Death is in season
Inward to source
INITIATION
Vanishing reasons
I chose this course
DISINTEGRATION
Death is in Season
Step inside...
One thousand faces
Stare back from their fractured origin
In turn
Turn another corner
And lose my place
A blue print for disorder
The Way of Disarray
Backward glare
Burnished obsidian walls
Reflect the endings
That will never...
Unfold
Fold the corners over
To hold my place
The panic feels so familiar
In a breath-work maze
Clear the air
Ceremonial smoke rings
Fill the creases
Where the trauma collects
You better keep your thought forms clean
How we, the Conjured, seek
To breach the compass of this dream
Illumination
Elimination
Tangental slipstreams
Derail our train of thought
Stationed in fog
Composing
Decompositions
In constant revision
Infinite indecision
Encaged
Within a finite space
Help me hide it away
Under thin coats of cracking paint
Under smothering soundscapes
Where every layer I′ve made
Competes for a place
Enchanting parlor tricks
And slights of hand
Made me a god
Here in obscurity
Confined to making believe
So help me wish it away...
But how long
Yeah, how long
Before I'd beg to bring it back into life?
To bring it into the blue grey
The Grey matters
Matters of the Maker
Writer(s): Andrew Speziale, Kathleen Coppola, David Rabitor, Caleb Collins Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com