The dance of the puppets
The rusted chains of prison moons
Are shattered by the sun
I walk a road, horizons change
The tournaments begun
The purple piper plays his tune
The choir softly sing;
Three lullabies in an ancient tongue
For the court of the crimson king
The keeper of the city keys
Put shutters on the dreams
I wait outside the pilgrims door
With insufficient schemes
The black queen chants
The funeral march
The cracked brass bells will ring;
To summon back the fire witch
To the court of the crimson king
The gardener plants an evergreen
Whilst trampling on a flower
I chase the wind of a prism ship
To taste the sweet and sour
The pattern juggler lifts his hand;
The orchestra begin
As slowly turns the grinding wheel
In the court of the crimson king
The rusted chains of prison moons
Are shattered by the sun
I walk a road, horizons change
The tournaments begun
The purple piper plays his tune
The choir softly sing;
Three lullabies in an ancient tongue
For the court of the crimson king
The keeper of the city keys
Put shutters on the dreams
I wait outside the pilgrims door
With insufficient schemes
The black queen chants
The funeral march
The cracked brass bells will ring;
To summon back the fire witch
To the court of the crimson king
The gardener plants an evergreen
Whilst trampling on a flower
I chase the wind of a prism ship
To taste the sweet and sour
The pattern juggler lifts his hand;
The orchestra begin
As slowly turns the grinding wheel
In the court of the crimson king
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