Winds - Colosseum II

There’s none to call the wind a liar

Save those whose limbs can flow as fast

Can creep up on unwatchful truth

And pluck her sleeves, distract her eyes

And leave in place the fitting image

Burnished bright with the rub of easy belief

The deafest ears hear falsehood’s bell

A-tolling in the Belfry

The loudest tongue is his

Whose ear is untuned to what’s likely

And thus the knowing spark

Is fanned into the mindless flame

Denouncing all across its path

It blots all trace of blame

Only the blind man touches a hand

And feels a heart afire

Only the blind man sees so well

He can call the wind a liar, liar, liar, liar

Behold the boomerang

Returns riding before the wind

History written afresh

As the beginning becomes the end, end, end, end

Only the blind man touches a hand

And feels the heart afire

Only the blind man sees so well

He can call the wind a liar, liar, liar, liar

Behold the boomerang

Returns riding before the wind

History written afresh

As the beginning becomes the

Beginning becomes the end