Tip Of My Tongue

The Choir 3 0 114 0
There's an oasis in the heat of the day There's a fire in the chill of the night A turnabout in circumstance Makes each a hell in its own right I've been boxed-in in the lowlands, in the canyons that think I've been pushed to the brink of the precipice and dared not to blink I've been confounded in the whirlwind of what-ifs and dreams I've been burned by the turning of the wind back upon my own flames Knock the scales from my eyes Knock the words from my lungs I want to cry out It's on the tip of my tongue Well, I've seen through the walls of this kingdom of dust Felt the crucial revelation But the broad streets of the heart and the day-to-day meet At a blind intersection I don't want to be lonely, I don't want to feel pain I don't want to draw straws with the sons of Cain You can take it as a prayer if you'll remember my name You can take it as the penance of a profane saint Knock the scales from my eyes Knock the words from my lungs I want to cry out It's on the tip of my tongue There's an oasis in the heat of the day There's fire in the chill of the night And when I know them both, I'll know your love - I will feel it in the twilight Oh, as circumstance comes crashing through my walls like a train Or like a chorus from the mountains of the ocean floor Like the wind-burst of birdwings taking flight in a hard rain Or like a mad dog on the far side of Dante's Door Knock the scales from my eyes Knock the words from my lungs I want to cry out It's on the tip of my tongue