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Feast Of Fools
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At the feast of fools Humour can sometimes be cruel But under certain conditions You have to forget the rules At the feast of fools Everybody has a voice Nobody goes to the bottom Except by their own choice It's time for the silent criers to be held in love It's time for the ones who dig graves for them to get that final shove It's time for the horizons of the universe to be glimpsed even by the faceless kings of corporations It's time for chaos to win and walk off with the prize which turns out to be nothing At the feast of fools Outlaws can all come home You can wear any disguise you want But you'll be naked past the bone At the feast of fools People's hands weave light There is a diamond wind Flowering in the darkest night

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