None so hopelessly blind
As he who will not look
None so hopelessly kind
As he who did not see they took
All that is fair, all that is sweet
In this war against dissent
And you shook your head
And you took the knife instead
But that's not what I meant

Into the snow grass, upon the hills
Holy this and holy that
But there's no friendly shapes here
And the blood has made our dream
Hard to light
It's only rough magic
There's nothing to it
And I overplayed my hand
And you never screamed
Though you'd had the dream too

Into the snow grass, upon the hills
Holy this and holy that
But there's no friendly shapes here
And the blood has made our dream
Hard to light
It's only rough magic
There's nothing to it
And I overplayed my hand
And you never screamed
Though you'd had the dream too