"My rest is a weapon against the oppression of man's obsession to control things."

Stand on the shores of a sight unseen, the substance of this dwells in me.  'Cause my natural eyes only go skin deep, but the eyes of my heart anchor the sea.  Plumbing the depths to the place in between the tangible world and the land of dreams, because everything here ain't quite what it seems, there's more beneath the appearance of things.  A beggar could be king within the shadows of a wing.

And wisdom will honor everyone who will learn to listen, to love, and to pray and discern.  And to do the right thing even when it burns.  And to live in the light through each treacherous turn.  A man is weak, but the spirit yearns to keep to the course from the bow to the stern, and throw overboard every selfish concern that tries to work for what can't be earned.  Sometimes the only way to return is to go where the winds will take you.  And to let go of all you cannot hold on to.  For the hope beyond the blue.

Yellow and gold as the new day dawns, like a virgin unveiled who waited so long to dance and rejoice and to sing her song and to rest in the arms of a love so strong.  No one comes unless they're drawn by the voice of desire that leads 'em along to the redemption of what went wrong.  By the blood that covered the innocent one.  No more separation between us.

So lift your voice just one more time.  If there's any hope may it be a sign that everything was made to shine, despite what you can see.  So take this bread, and drink this wine, and hide your spirit in the vine where all things work by a good design for those who will believe.  And let go of all we cannot hold on to.  For the hope beyond the blue.