One foot in still water and the other on the ground The breeze put wild fire at arms It's echo crashed and ruptured in my ache Hanging on a thread To serve my mean On and on, and again to compromise my balance Draw a line and watch my ground crumble This temple in me speaks in various tongues Full of thirst to seek knowledge Light a match and burn the bridge that lies between us All I could try is hope the light will illuminate my path To let go and leave behind Bare the fruit of the condemned Standing on paper thin ground Mask your head and wear your crown The king of jester clown