Oh, I have walked the pattern through the shadows and the thunder
From the shadow worlds to amber where my life was pulled asunder
But my life’s no less confusing now then it had been before
And I cannot tell who’s with me, or against me, anymore
My brothers all are traders, and my sisters all are crazy
With no consciences to speak of and with morals vague and hazy
But, then, who am I to try to put their actions to the test,
When I have done the same and am no better than the rest?
Oh, I have walked the pattern to the place where shadows ended
But that place was not in amber as the wizard’s hand pretended
It was barren dead and lifeless there was nothing there to see
But the shadow of a shadow of a shadow, that was me
Oh, I have walked the pattern ‘til my senses were confounded
‘Til my mind was in confusion by perplexities surrounded
And illusions took the place of all the things I thought were real
I can no longer tell for certain what I think or feel
[Interlude]
Oh, I have walked the pattern and the trump’s (?) a mind for using
But there seems to be no mean in a pattern this confusion
Are these shadows that I walk through just illusion that I see?
Or have I become the shadow and are they reality?
