I. Desert of Facts
Eyes blinded by the fog of Things cannot see the Truth
Ears deafened by the din of Things cannot hear the Truth
Minds bewildered by the whirl of Things cannot think the Truth
Hearts deadened by the weight of Things cannot feel the Truth
Throats choked by the dust of Things cannot speak the Truth

II. The Temple of Truth
The Traveler at his journey’s end
Falls before the Gate of Truth
To enter is all he’s labored for
Yet standing there barring door
Is one white as flowing clouds
And a voice like a breeze
And a face he should know
It’s the Keeper of Truth
And he says, “I am you”

Appointed One may I enter in
I’ve paid The Price and fulfilled The Law
I’ve left behind all that’s dear to men
My opinions slain and denied
Honors rightly earned by them
Left the wealth that I’ve known
To the point that it lead deep through the sands
To now here at the Outer-Edge-Of-Things

Traveler is there something yet you’d like to know
And he standing helped with weathered hands clutching
Tell me why The Journey took so very long
And answering he cites The Basic Law of Things

Then the pilgrim asked, then why The Price so high
Thyself painted him reminders of the sand,
And the desert bones of those who don’t let go

Now come my weary man
Cross you to enter in
But before your final offering
This Quiet Room
A tale They’ll bring

III. The Quiet Room (Instrumental)