Silk Road

Memories help us understand time 
  and help us to come to terms with what's been placed inside. 
  Inside every one of our minds a small child hides 
  life is not a perfect game 

  You will know me by my given name 
  But you will never know all the lives that I've led 
  And you may never see me for the grain of sand I am 
  Life is not a perfect game 

  Fault isn't the emerald sky 
  It is the ivory lie told through our eyes 
  when there's no other way out, there is another way out 
  your feet are the ground, one field of white 

  Crimson solitude lends yellow waves 
  Patches of what was green now is white 
  And what was future now is hindsight 
  Brick and turquoise, dancing violet strands 
  Bluish topaz acquiescent nerves bleed magenta 

  among other things gossip betrays confidence 
  so avoid the ones with the quick tongues 
  those who talk away, way too much 
  pour one out for those who've been blessed with the gift of silence and the grace to use it 

  electro magnetics would have us to believe vision is dead 
  so open your ears and listen, the colors will come in, 
  they will rush in your childish eyes 

  we are the speed of light 
  and we ride frequencies like the wind 

  and as we stop to rest on a wavelength 
  or up against an old oak tree 
  we are a leather bound story, 
  and the book is the only thing keeping us alive 
  we are the speed of light 

  just wait