
Beyond the Northern Rim (Prog Rock)
Hear the siren across the brine where the daylight strikes the sea, bearing tales of sunken empires their heralds haunt the deep You stacked constellations on the mantle, ablaze in glass and gold, I said, “Hold your horses, traveler, that’s more light than hands can hold.” “You smiled, our journey's only starting, look beyond the northern rim.” Saw an iron chariot in the tempest, saw a phantom shrouded gray, caught the scales of the serpent that we buried in the clay. You said, “Friend, you asked for sorcery.” I said, “Well, yeah, but not this frost. Got enough old phantom fires burning holes through what we lost.” But we laughed across the highlands, gave the jagged crags new names, wandered through the ancient woodlands, playing wild and mythic games. Then the horizon started bending, and the floor fell out of sight, and your hand was reaching outward at the breaking of the light. Take me riding, over oceans, through the mist and burning suns. Take me where the rivers wander, where no compass points us home, through the folds of hidden country over paths of mercury stone. Take my hand into the maelstrom, we’ve a universe to roam. You pointed to the summit, rising bright against the blue, where the old kings’ road went winding through the hills and out of view. I said, “That crest makes me restless, sets my spirit on the wing.” You laughed, “Then brace yourself for climbing, if you want to hear them sing.” Take me riding, over oceans, through the gales and blinding suns. Show me realms unremembered, where no mortal man has run. 'Cause you and I have all creation and a thousand lands to roam. By midnight we had passed the bastion, breached the halls of mountain kings, sailed across the burning starlight on a pair of gilded wings. Till high above the shadowed valley you broke the trance of sleep. Keep me riding, over oceans, through the endless morning suns. No, we don’t need the answers to the fate that’s calling us. You and I got all creation, a thousand lands to roam. (We got a thousand lands to roam...)

