Songs Of Old

Turn the key in the iron lock

Of the old oak door

Lean into its passages

With all my weight and enter

Immediately my olfactory senses it's home

Paper thin and paraffin

With a glimmering of gold

Marble hands are pouring water

Silver wings delivering the chains?

Streams of colored light make hallow home

Mamas singing the songs of old

Mama's singing the songs of old

Singing the rock of ages

Though the gold is marred by red

Singing the rock of ages

Melt it down and make new things

Singing the rock of ages

Empires are made this way

Singing the rock of ages

Endless hopes and endless fears

Polish this stone

The deeper desire

The fine of the grain

This time I walk the stairway

And turn the key in a cellar door

I want to know why

All these stories never spoken

Danced or drawn or sung or written

How we built this temple song by song

Mama's singing the songs of old

Mama's singing the songs of old

Singing the rock of ages

Though the gold is marred by red

Singing the rock of ages

Melt it down and make new things

Singing the rock of ages

Empires are made this way

Singing the rock of ages

Mama's singing the songs of old

Singing the rock of ages

Though the gold is marred by red

Singing the rock of ages

Melt them down and make new things

Singing the rock of ages

Empires are made this way

Singing the rock of ages