At The Forge - Twilightning

When the heat rises up to the point of maximum temperature

To give birth to the flame

The fountain of passion showers high

New ways emerge in the endless search

For the expression supreme

And the true value of art

What does it take to feel it and make it real?

Maybe you must deal with insanity or steel

When we are at the forge

Of creation, but who knows

What lights up the torch

Illuminating the process for all those?

Those who are at the forge

When the steam burns your skin

And the mood is getting all so constrained

And the flame’s dying down

The fountain of passion dried up… suddenly

No way out, there’s nothing you can do about

It but call it a day

And this night isn’t fine, by the way

What does it take to feel it and make it real?

Maybe you must deal with insanity or steel

When we are at the forge

Of creation, but who knows

What lights up the torch

Illuminating the process for all those?

Those who are at the forge

When we are at the forge

Of creation, but who knows

What lights up the torch

Illuminating the process, whoa

When we are at the forge

Of creation, but who knows

What lights up the torch

Illuminating the process for all those?

Those who are at the forge

To create or come up with something that is to thrill

One must place one’s soul between

The hammer and the anvil