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On this side of truth where your vision is inclined
to gaze, all has become distorted and unclear.
Motivations once concrete are now undefined,
dominated by symbols perverse and severe.
Bearing laurels of poison and wreaths of despair,
your songs have been heard by only a precious few.
On this side of truth you find you no longer care
to assign any blame for what happens to you.
Dreams once resplendent with promise have now faded,
casualties of a shepherd who has went astray.
Visions might have came if only you had waited,
but you felt compelled to follow a different way.
It is times like these when you see what you have lost
chasing a phantom voice across uncertain plains.
On this side of truth, you have yet to pay the cost
for your love of voices and innumerable pains.
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- Location: Bloomington, Indiana
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- Location: Bangor, N.Ireland
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