The storyteller makes no choice, soon you will not hear his voice, his job is to shed light, and not to master
Poised for flight, Wings spread bright, Spring from night into the Sun.
In wickedness of pride is lost the light to understand how little grace is earned and how much given.
It's better to wear seaweed socks than stick a melon in your brother's ear.
Inspiration, move me brightly, light the song with sense and color, hold away despair
Without love in a dream it will never come true