From "Sleepy Hollow: The Rock Opera"
The builder winds
Through boundless maiden orchards
His journal bright with wide-eyed praise
His satchel's lined
With faded pillbox portraits
And sterling charms of better days
Too many love songs spoils everything, I know
But we've got no place left to go
So brew a draft of song and sky
And they make books to judge us by
By anyone at all
The ripe ones plucked
And this I know
A little wordsmith told me so
Long anyone at all
The crushing lure
Of terra incognita
Evokes a spell
Of kingdoms cast,
Each moldered stone,
As chronicle of ages.
Each ashen crumb,
Our savage past.
No stage for children's tales, no accolade insured
The builder's rendering obscured.
So brew a draft of song and sky
And they make books to judge us by
By anyone at all
It's all been done
And this I know
A little wordsmith told me so
Long anyone at all.
(David Fernandes - drums
Josh Siegel - piano solo)
Copyright 1997 Zach London