Show me back to the path, Where the ground has split in half, Like the claws of a cloven hoof. Where the shelves have shifted fast, Raising highways for the lost Explorers, searching for truth. Fault lines disappear Now the hanging wall is here, Imposing it's varved clay beak. A wishbone pulled apart By a child in the dark, Who's hoping for the larger tusk. Take my hand, lead me south, To the maw, that gaping mouth From where the dumb mud drips. These dreams may be too late But return me to the wake And into the stream, I'll slip. But greed for greener grass Lures me cruelly to the past, Like a siren calling from the rock. Left stranded in a vale, It's lonely in the shade That wicked memory makes. So come find me, in a yellow wood. I'll be waiting, in a yellow wood. You and I, in a yellow wood. All alone, in a yellow wood. (If you ride to the right, you will lose you head) (If you ride to the left, you will lose your horse)