The Keeper of the Lexicon -------------------------------- [Verse 1] I found a book with waterlogged lines, Maps of silence and electric pines. One page showed a bridge, one a broken toy, One just said "The Seventh Harmonic of Joy." The keeper said, "This ain't for sale, It's for the one who knows the tale." [Chorus] He speaks in highways, he dreams in ghosts, Counts the cost of silent posts. If you know the weight of a borrowed name, You'll find his station, you'll play his game. Just follow the lexicon, the buried tune… It starts beneath a sentimental moon. [Verse 2] He left a coat out on the ridge, A vow in Russian near the bridge. A glass raised after the final toast… The only things he valued most. The keeper laughed, "He don't want fame, Just to leave a mark that outlives the name." [Chorus] He speaks in highways, he dreams in ghosts, Counts the cost of silent posts. If you know the weight of a borrowed name, You'll find his station, you'll play his game. Just follow the lexicon, the buried tune… It starts beneath a sentimental moon. [Outro] (Quiet, just acoustic guitar and a faint, resolved drone) So if your doll's been wound too tight… And you're counting cost in the dead of night… Just know the map is already drawn. It's waiting… …since before the dawn.
