I pass my hand through fire,
in search of dreams;
and recite the magic words,
to see you appear.
We kiss like lovers, and touch;
melding wind and rain.
Two dancing trees,
against the moonlit clouds.
Beneath the darkened sky we met;
hung our souls on ancient words,
and dreamt of being ageless and wise.
And wished the myth was true.
And wished the myth was true.
Mortal hopes and mortal fears;
we felt the same.
So we made a secret pact,
to win the game.
With a cup, sword, and fire,
we rule the servants
that keep us bound
and extend the gift of life.
Beneath the darkened sky we met;
hung our souls on ancient words,
and dreamt of being ageless and wise.
And wished the myth was true.
And wished the myth was true.
Her life was pure,
but not without pain.
The boy closed his eyes
and remembered the same.
He was cut from stone,
for a silver girl.
She was cut from stone,
for a silver boy.
I wish the myth was true.
I wish the myth was true.
I wish the myth was true.
I wish the myth was true.
