GhostGirl Posted June 30, 2010 Share Posted June 30, 2010 1. Caravan (5:40) 2. BU2B (5:10) 3. Clockwork Angels (7:31) 4. The Anarchist (6:52) 5. Carnies (4:52) 6. Halo Effect (3:14) 7. Seven Cities Of Gold (6:32) 8. The Wreckers (5:01) 9. Headlong Flight (7:20) 10. BU2B2 (1:28) 11. Wish Them Well (5:25) 12. The Garden (6:59) Music by Lee and Lifeson Lyrics by Peart Caravan IT SEEMS LIKE A LIFETIME AGO - which of course it was, all that and more. For a boy, life on the farm was idyllic, but for the young man I became, that very peace and predictability were stifling, unbearable. I had big dreams, and needed a big place to explore them: the whole wide world. Near our village of Barrel Arbor, the steamliners touched down and traveled on rails along the Winding Pinion River toward Crown City. Watching them pass in the night, how I prayed to get away . . . In a world lit only by fire Long train of flares under piercing stars I stand watching the steamliners roll by The caravan thunders onward To the distant dream of the city The caravan carries me onward On my way at last On my way at last I can't stop thinking big I can't stop thinking big On a road lit only by fire Going where I want, instead of where I should I peer out at the passing shadows Carried through the night into the city Where a young man has a chance of making good A chance to break from the past The caravan thunders onward Stars winking through the canvas hood On my way at last In a world where I feel so small I can't stop thinking big --------------------------------------------- BU2B WE WERE ALWAYS TAUGHT that we lived in "the best of all possible worlds." The Watchmaker ruled from Crown City through the Regulators; the alchemist-priests gave us coldfire for power and light, and everything was well ordered. We accepted our various individual fates as inevitable, for we had also been taught, "Whatever happens to us must be what we deserve, for it could not happen to us if we did not deserve it. None of it seemed right to me. . ." I was brought up to believe The universe has a plan We are only human It's not ours to understand The universe has a plan All is for the best Some will be rewarded And the devil take the rest All is for the best Believe in what we're told Blind men in the market Buying what we're sold Believe in what we're told Until our final breath While our loving Watchmaker Loves us all to death In a world of cut and thrust I was always taught to trust In a world where all must fail Heaven's justice will prevail The joy and pain that we receive Each comes with its own cost The price of what we're winning Is the same as what we've lost Until our final breath The joy and pain that we receive Must be what we deserve I was brought up to believe --------------------------------------------- Clockwork Angels THE PLACE I HAD MOST WANTED TO SEE - Chronos Square, at the heart of Crown City. I had seen many images of the city before, and Chronos Square, but nothing could convey its immensity - the heaven-reaching towers of the Cathedral of the Timekeepers, or the radiant glory of the Angels - Land, Sea, Sky, and Light - bathed in the brilliant glow of the floating globes. High above the city square Globes of light float in mid-air Higher still, against the night Clockwork angels bathed in light You promise every treasure, to the foolish and the wise Goddesses of mystery, spirits in disguise Every pleasure, we bow and close our eyes Clockwork angels, promise every prize Clockwork angels, spread their arms and sing Synchronized and graceful, they move like living things Goddesses of Light, of Sea and Sky and Land Clockwork angels, the people raise their hands -- As if to fly All around the city square Power shimmers in the air People gazing up with love To those angels high above Celestial machinery - move through your commands Goddesses of mystery, so delicate and so grand Moved to worship, we bow and close our eyes Clockwork angels, promise every prize "Lean not upon your own understanding * Ignorance is well and truly blessed Trust in perfect love, and perfect planning Everything will turn out for the best" Stars aglow like scattered sparks Span the sky in clockwork arcs Hint at more than we can see Spiritual machinery *Proverbs 3:5 [and In-N-Out milkshake!] --------------------------------------------- i - The Pedlar 1 A foggy woodland road, a crowded village square, the busy streets of Crown City - a wandering pedlar travels the land, uttering the ageless call. "What do you lack?" --------------------------------------------- The Anarchist WALKING AMONG THE PEOPLE - who are so content, so blind -- the Anarchist hears the pedlar's call, and sneers derisively. "What do I lack? Ah. . . vengeance?" Will there be world enough and time for me to sing that song? A voice so silent for so long For all those years I had to get along, they told me I was wrong I never wanted to belong - I was so strong I lack their smiles and their diamonds; I lack their happiness and love I envy them for all those things, I never got my fair share of The lenses inside of me that paint the world black The pools of poison, the scarlet mist, that spill over into rage The things I've always been denied An early promise that somehow died A missing part of me that grows around me like a cage In all your science of the mind, seeking blind through flesh and bone Find the blood inside this stone What I know, I've never shown; what I feel, I've always known I plan my vengeance on my own - and I was always alone Oh - They tried to get me Oh - They'll never forget me --------------------------------------------- Carnies I FOUND WORK WITH A TRAVELING CARNIVAL, and for the Midsummer Festival in Crown City, our games and rides were set up right in the middle of the Square, beneath the Angels. One night, amid the noise and confusion of the crowded midway, I saw, a man working with wires and wooden barrels. He stood and turned - the Anarchist! - holding a clockwork detonator in his hand. I called out to warn the crowd, then suddenly he threw the device at me, and I caught it automatically - just as the people turned to look my way. I escaped, but in disgrace, and fled down the Winding Pinion River to the sea. Under the gaze of the angels A spectacle like he's never seen Spinning lights and faces Demon music and gypsy queens The glint of iron wheels Bodies spin in a clockwork dance The smell of flint and steel A wheel of fate, a game of chance How I prayed just to get away To carry me anywhere Sometimes the angels punish us By answering our prayers A face of naked evil Turns the young boy's blood to ice Deadly confrontation Such a dangerous device Shout to warn the crowd Accusations ringing loud A ticking box, in the hand of the innocent The angry crowd moves toward him with bad intent --------------------------------------------- Halo Effect I HAD FALLEN HELPLESSLY IN LOVE with one of the performers. She was so different from "the girl I left behind," and I was beginning to understand I had only pretended she was right for me. I pursued my beautiful acrobat obsessively until she let me be with her - then I suffered her rejection and contempt. Once again, I had created an ideal of the perfect soulmate, and tried to graft in onto her. It didn't fit. Such illusions have colored my whole life. What did I see? Fool that I was A goddess, with wings on her heels All my illusions Projected on her The ideal, that I wanted to see What did I know? Fool that I was Little by little, I learned My friends were dismayed To see my betrayed But they knew they could never tell me What did I care? Fool that I was Little by little, I burned Maybe sometimes There might be a flaw But how pretty the picture was back then What did I do? Fool that I was To profit from youthful mistakes? It's shameful to tell How often I fell In love with illusions again So shameful to tell Just how often I fell In love with illusions again A goddess with wings on her heels . . . --------------------------------------------- Seven Cities Of Gold THE LEGEND HAD PASSED DOWN FOR GENERATIONS. Far across the Western Sea, where the steamliners could not fly, lay a wilderness land hiding seven cities of gold. I dared the crossing on one of the stout ships that followed the trade route to Poseidon, a tough port city. I worked there for a while on the steamliners that served the alchemy mines, then eventually set out into the Redrock Desert. The stones were sculpted into unearthly monuments, and the country grew cold as I traveled north in search of the most famous City of Gold: Cibola. Its name had sounded in my dreams since childhood. A man can lose his past, in a country like this Wandering aimless Parched and nameless A Man could lose his way, in a country like this Canyons and cactus Endless and trackless Searching through grim eternity Sculptured by a prehistoric sea Seven Cities of Gold Stories that fired my imagination Seven Cities of Gold A splendid mirage in this desolation Seven Cities of Gold Glowing in my dreams, like hallucinations Glitter in the sun like a revelation Distant as a comet or a constellation A man can lose himself, in a country like this Rewrite the story Recapture the glory A man could lose his life, in a country like this Sunblind and friendless Frozen and endless The nights grow longer, the farther I go Wake to aching cold, and a deep Sahara of snow That gleam in the distance could be heaven's gate A long-awaited treasure at the end of my cruel fate --------------------------------------------- The Wreckers NARROWLY ESCAPING A FROZEN DEATH IN THAT DESERT, I made my way back to Poseidon, and found a berth on a homeward ship. Caught in a terrible storm, we seemed to find salvation in an unexpected signal light. Steering toward it, we soon learned it was false - placed by the denizens to lure ships to their doom on the jagged reefs. They plundered the cargos and abandoned the crews and passengers to the icy waves. I was the only survivor. The breakers roar on an unseen shore In the teeth of a hurricane We struggle in vain A hellish night - a ghostly light Appears trough the driving rain Salvation in a human chain All I know is that sometimes you have to be wary Of a miracle too good to be true All I know is that sometimes the truth is contrary Everything in life you thought you knew All I know is that sometimes you have to be wary 'Cause sometimes the target is you Driven aground, with that awful sound Drowned by the cheer from ashore We wonder what for The people swarm through the darkling storm Gather everything the can score 'Til their backs won't bear any more The breakers roar on an unseen shore In the teeth of an icy grave The human chain leaves a bloody stain Washed away in the pounding waves All I know is that memory can be too much to carry Striking down like a bolt from the blue --------------------------------------------- Headlong Flight THINKING BACK OVER MY LIFE, AND TELLING STORIES ABOUT MY "GREAT ADVENTURES" -- they didn't always feel that grand at the time. But on balance, I wouldn't change anything. In the words of one of our great alchemists, Friedrich Gruber, "I wish I could do it all again." All the journeys Of this great adventure It didn't always feel that way I wouldn't trade them Because I made them The best I could And that's enough to say Some days were dark I wish that I could live it all again Some nights were bright I wish that I could live it all again All the highlights of that headlong flight Holding on with all my might To what I felt back then I wish that I could live it all again I have stoked the fire on the big steel wheels Steered the airship right across the stars I learned to fight, I learned to love, I learned to feel Oh, I wish that I could live it all again All the treasures The gold and glory It didn't always feel that way I don't regret it I'll never forget it I wouldn't trade tomorrow for today Some days were dark I wish that I could live it all again Some nights were bright I wish that I could live it all again I have stoked the fire on the big steel wheels Steered the airship right across the stars I learned to fight, I learned to love, I learned to feel Oh, I wish that I could live it all again The days were dark And the nights were bright Hey now, I would never trade tomorrow for today Yeah... All the highlights of that headlong flight Holding on with all my might Some days were dark I wish that I could live it all again Some nights were bright I wish that I could live it all again I have stoked the fire on the big steel wheels Steered the airship right across the stars I learned to fight, I learned to love, I learned to feel Oh, I wish that I could live it all again I have stoked the fire on the big steel wheels Steered the airship right across the stars I learned to fight, I learned to love, I learned to steal Oh, I wish that I could Oh, I wish that I could live it all again --------------------------------------------- ii - The Pedlar 2 The ever-wandering pedlar. "What do you lack?" --------------------------------------------- BU2B2 THOSE FATEFUL WORDS. "What do you lack?" spark an inner monologue about all that I have lost. No more boundless optimism, no more faith in greater powers, too much pain, too much grief, and too much disillusion. Despite all that, I realize the great irony that although I now believe only in the exchange of love, even that little faith follows the childhood reflex that "I was brought up to believe." I was brought up to believe Belief has failed me now The bright glow of optimism Abandoned me somehow Belief has failed me now Life goes from bad to worse No philosophy consoles me In a clockwork universe Life goes from bad to worse I still choose to live Find a measure of love and laughter And another measure to give I still choose to live And give, even while I grieve Though the balance tilts against me I was brought up to believe --------------------------------------------- Wish Them Well VICTIMIZED, BEREAVED, AND DISAPPOINTED, SEEMINGLY AT EVERY TURN, I still resist feeling defeated, or cynical. I have come to believe that anger and grudges are burning embers in the heart not worth carrying through life. The best response to those who wound me is to get away from them - and wish them well. All that you can do is wish them well All that you can do is wish them well Spirits turned bitter by the poison of envy Always angry and dissatisfied Even the lost ones, the frightened and mean ones Even the ones with a devil inside Thank your stars you're not that way Turn your back and walk away Don't even pause and ask them why Turn around and say goodbye People who judge without a measure of mercy All the victims who will never learn Even the lost ones, you can only give up on Even the ones who make you burn The ones who've done you wrong The ones who pretended to be so strong The grudges you've held for so long It's not worth singing that same sad song Even though you're going through hell Just keep on going Let the demons dwell Just wish them well --------------------------------------------- The Garden LONG AGO I READ A STORY FROM ANOTHER TIMELINE about a character named Candide. He also survived a harrowing series of misadventures and tragedies, then settled on a farm near Constantinople. Listening to a philosophical rant, Candide replied, "That is all very well, but now we must tend our garden." I have now arrived at that point in my own story. There is a metaphorical garden in the acts and attitudes of a person's life, and the treasures of that garden are love and respect. I have come to realize that the gathering of love and respect - from others and for myself - has been the real quest of my life. "Now we must tend our garden." In this one of many possible worlds, all for the best, or some bizarre test? It is what it is - and whatever Time is still the infinite jest The arrow flies when you dream, the hours tick away - the cells tick away The Watchmaker keeps to his schemes The hours tick away - they tick away The measure of a life is a measure of love and respect So hard to earn, so easily burned In the fullness of time A garden to nurture and protect In the rise and the set of the sun 'Til the stars go spinning - spinning 'round the night It is what it is - and forever Each moment a memory in flight The arrow flies while you breathe, the hours tick away - the cells tick away The Watchmaker has time up his sleeve The hours tick away - they tick away The treasure of a life is a measure of love and respect The way you live, the gifts that you give In the fullness of time It's the only return that you expect The future disappears into memory With only a moment between Forever dwells in that moment Hope is what remains to be seen Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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