Blankman Cries Again - High Tide

Barefoot and weary we came to a valley

Turned to the east and beheld the view

Curious to measure the fever within

Off we went trundling to find our sin

Raiments of crystal reflecting pretension

Up from the shoulders of one and all

No one could move there was nowhere to go

Slowly we died in the wind and snow

Born from the carnage and cast into darkness

Hailed are the priests of duality

Fragrant of blossom and deadly the thorn

Some born from sorrow and some from scorn

Slowly we walked to the sound of the sunlight

Down to the valley as morning grew

Show me the words I was turning to say

When came the sting of my tasteless game?