there's no end, there's no glory, there's a slow resounding story
there's no place to feel certain, there's no body waiting for me
there's no stand of trees, no morning, there's a curve without a warning
there is weird and lasting sadness, there's no large and lengthy warming
there's no heat, there's no expansion, there's no door into the mansion
there's no flesh, there's no fingers in my hair, i see a tunnel
we built walls, tall and solid between the treasure and the shovel
i see an in i see a fountain, there's a trail over the mountain
there's no wayside, there's no stopping and the peak is wide and rocky
there's no ceiling in the mansion, there's no wast no hesitation
there's no crack of dawn no morning, just an everlasting warming