Oh, I have walked the pattern through the shadows and 
the thunder
From the shadow worlds to amber where my life was 
pulled asunder
But my life's no less confusing now then it had been 
before
And I cannot tell who's with me, or against me, anymore

My brothers all are traders, and my sisters all are 
crazy
With no consciences to speak of and with morals vague 
and hazy
But, then, who am I to try to put their actions to the 
test,
When I have done the same and am no better than the 
rest?

Oh, I have walked the pattern to the place where 
shadows ended
But that place was not in amber as the wizard's hand 
It was barren dead and lifeless there was nothing there 
to see
But the shadow of a shadow of a shadow, that was me

Oh, I have walked the pattern ‘til my senses were 
confounded
‘Til my mind was in confusion by perplexities 
surrounded
And illusions took the place of all the things I 
thought were real
I can no longer tell for certain what I think or feel

[Interlude]

Oh, I have walked the pattern and the trump's (?) a 
mind for using
But there seems to be no mean in a pattern this 
confusion
Are these shadows that I walk through just illusion 
that I see?
Or have I become the shadow and are they reality?