The Dream of Eden

Every revolution is the same, Jack says
Looking back, looking back to Eden
Every dream of heaven calls us home, she says
Looking back, looking back to Eden

Every stroke of fortune strikes a balance of its own
Every revolution’s getting even

Every paradise we plan for is the same Colinda says
Staring back, glaring back at Eden
Every vision of the future pulls us home, she says
Walking back, crawling back to Eden

Everything we plan for turns to dust and bone
Every vision of the future is about grieving

It takes a woman with a hand of solid gold
To spread her cards out on the table
It takes a man who never sold his soul
To turn his story into fable
And it takes a hell of a lady
To pull him out of Hades

Every paradise we plan for is the same, Colinda says
Staring back, glaring back at Eden
Every vision of the future pulls us home, she says
Walking back, crawling back to Eden

Everything we plan for turns to dust and bone
Every vision of the future is about grieving

Every nirvana we’re promised lets us down, he says
Rearing back, leaning back from Eden
Every dream of utopia is a nightmare of the past
Streaming back, weeping back from Eden

Every dancer has no partner but their own
Dancing round the dream of Eden
The dream of Eden . . .