Do tell me why my dreams   Speak to me always of never?   For I am the never, the ever dreaming senses   Within the windows of mine eyes, the beauty is ever shame      This searing imagery roots within my consciousness   Imagery that which I wish to know of, and wish not to know of   They are one in the same   The silence of screaming, deep within the void of my never   Take away the emptiness      The dance echoes its imagery to me   Again and again... and again   Our dance... our very last dance   Taunting me, taunting delicately around the empty carousel   Of what I now wish to be and what remains of my dreams      Why must I dream of the flourishing fountain   Ever flowing with the blood of all whom hath cried out my name?      Forget not my name      The dance echoes its imagery to me   Again and again... and again   Our dance... our very last dance   Taunting me, taunting delicately around the empty carousel   Of what I now wish to be and what remains of my dreams      A glimpse of a beautiful painting slips away   Leaving in its place a canvas of endless black...   Yet the illusion remains