The third brow is dark and low, The eyes close set amongst the face in company, It's often seen to be cynical, to be out of place, It takes a lot of charity to go searching for your saving grace, For your saving grace. You're so careful and you worship little icons that you then replace, Your images are cracked and dry, yet somehow always force the pace, It may be hard, it may be long, but somewhere there's a saving grace, There's a saving grace. Your sanctity is seen with awe, and yet it's somehow lightly laced, With something really quite absurd, how common sense defaces taste, You turn and as you slowly fall, the diamond that has turned to paste, Becomes your saving grace. So the tidal flow will come and go, and images you will replace, Don't curse the darkness, light the lamp out there in the open space, For temples tall and all will fall, and whilst to them there'll be no trace, You have your saving grace. www.mooji.org