Lines in the Sand

Sometimes, for a moment of bliss
And the passion, we're craving
There's a message we miss
Sometimes when, the spirits left alone
We must believe in something
To find if we've grown

Tragic reflex, shattered calm
Static progress, senses gone
Numb awareness, final psalm

Swept away with the tide
Through the holes in my hands
Crown of thorns at my side
Drawing lines in the sand

Sometimes, if you're perfectly still
You can hear the virgin weeping
For the savior of your will
Sometimes, your castles in the air
And the fantasies you're seeking
Are the crosses you bear

Sacred conflict, blessed prize
Weeping crosses, stainless eyes
Desperate addict, faith disguised

Swept away with the tide
Through the holes in my hands
Crown of thorns at my side
Drawing lines in the sand

We fabricate our demons

Invite them into our homes

Have supper with the aliens

And fight the war alone

We conjure up our skeletons

Enlist the den of thieves

Frightened from our closets

Then sewn upon our sleeves

In the stream of consciousness
There is a river crying
Living comes much easier
Once we admit

We're dying

Sometimes, in the wreckage of our wake
There's a bitterness we harbor
And hate for hatred's sake
Sometimes we dig an early grave
And crucify our instincts
For the hope we couldn't save

Sometimes a view from sinless eyes
Centers our perspective
And pacifies our cries
Sometimes the anguish we survive
And the mysteries we nurture
Are the fabrics of our lives

Swept away with the tide
Through the holes in my hands
Crown of thorns at my side
Drawing lines in the sand


Lines in the Sand, Dream Theater