Reason - Borknagar

Peeling the layers

To expose the facts

Was like spraying

And ancient painting

With ammonia

Faces melted

Colours turned pale

Shapes lost their vivacity

And essences faded

To distracted blurs

Now the canvas is all white

And my hands are unsoiled

Still all reasons seems replaced

By the false notion of a lucid portrait

Yet again, the savage remains

This empty work of art still gains a crowd

The blind eagerly discuss

The liveliness of its colours

And the deaf insist

It’s accompanied by quiet chants

The painter

A highly praised

But anonymous deity

Lurks in the periphery of the exhibition

Amused by the fuzz he is causing

Despite his many flaws

The canvas is all white

And my hands are unsoiled

Still all reasons seems replaced

By the false notion of a lucid portrait