They measure him by his blood-shot eyes They measure him by his thick disguise Those nights of doubt and loneliness Inside the thoughts never rest The jest, the pomp and the circumstance Won't fill the void nor soothe his sense He wears his secret like a cloak Truth makes it harder to cope By the most enlightened matter I'll have your mind in the grip of my hand You despise what's on your platter Wish for a change, dreams will have bound you Make peace with all you ever knew Make peace with all you ever do Make peace with it all I won't let you fall Nailed down hope and with fingers crossed Pick up the dreams that were nearly lost Race for home and trusting arms The antic has forsaken the farce When they shake him awake again Torn from the calm by a judging hand The daylight's hard when the mind's not free The circle starts over again By the most enlightened matter I have your mind in the grip of my hand All he's done is try to bury Fleeing so far from the judge and the jury