Eyes of a Prophet

Eyes arent everything
not even a tool for all i've seen
I've seen the scenes and heard the screams
within the prison of my dreams.

It started with a pleasent walking.
holding hands, laughing, talking.
but in the shadows it was stalking
the curse of the prophet, always stalking.

I met you all before our meeting,
saw your face, heard your greeting.
Saw your horns but they were fleeting,
couldnt understand the deeper meaning.

But it was all just fine
Cause you were mine.
But, oh, the pain would come in time,
oh how the pain would come in time.

When i saw past the facade
it was much too late.
It was me they did forsake,
a pain i would have to sit and take.

No real problems, i still had you.
No doubt we could make it through,
and all this i thought i knew,
no idea what you would do.

Then i was gone, walking home.
Sitting again on my losers throne,
I saw again and i should have known,
But i couldnt leave well alone.

So i returned and then i saw,
I knew the truth becuase i'd seen it all,
Anothing dream from which to fall,
A dream with another to steal it all.

When i came back again,
It was into the arms of only a friend,
fallen from my throne again,
I knew the push had come from him.

I'm back on my feet,
But he also still stands to greet,
The problems he brings are not discreet,
Nothing to do but wait and dream.