The tongue’s tale, a crowd will heed,
The heart's ache, who will concede?
The tongue’s tale, a crowd will heed,
The heart's ache, who will concede?
In markets loud, where voices throng,
The silent whisper, who will belong?
In markets loud, where voices throng,
The silent whisper, who will belong?
The tongue’s tale, a crowd will heed.
Through ages old, the same display,
On paths that stretch, a long-lost way.
Through ages old, the same display,
On paths that stretch, a long-lost way.
But when at last, our souls align,
Which self dissolves, where do we find?
But when at last, our souls align,
Which self dissolves, where do we find?
In markets loud, where voices throng,
The silent whisper, who will belong?
The tongue’s tale, a crowd will heed.
Is it my mirror, or am I,
His reflected form beneath the sky?
Is it my mirror, or am I,
His reflected form beneath the sky?
Within my home, he makes his stay,
My very self, who fades away?
In markets loud, where voices throng,
The silent whisper, who will belong?
The tongue’s tale, a crowd will heed.
Ray by ray, the sun’s soft sigh,
Lid by lid, the waking eye.
Ray by ray, the sun’s soft sigh,
Lid by lid, the waking eye.
Slowly melting, bit by bit,
Which particle dissolves from it?
The tongue’s tale, a crowd will heed,
The heart's ache, who will concede?
In markets loud, where voices throng,
The silent whisper, who will belong?
In markets loud, where voices throng,
The silent whisper, who will belong?
The tongue’s tale, a crowd will heed.
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