Tip Of My Tongue - The Choir

There’s an oasis in the heat of the day

There’s a fire in the chill of night

A turnabout in circumstance

Makes each a hell in its own right

I’ve been boxed-in in the lowlands, in the canyons that think

I’ve been pushed to the brink of the precipice and dared not to blink

I’ve been confounded in the whirlwind of what-if's and dreams

I’ve been burned by the turning of the wind back upon my own flames

Knock the scales from my eyes

Knock the words from my lungs

I want to cry out

It’s on the tip of my tongue

I’ve seen through the walls of this kingdom of dust

Felt the crucial revelation

But the broad streets of the heart and the day-to-day

Meet at a blind intersection

I don’t want to be lonely, I don’t want to feel pain

I don’t want to draw straws with the sons of Cain

You can take it as a prayer if you’ll remember my name

You can take it as the penance of a profane saint

Knock the scales from my eyes

Knock the words from my lungs

I want to cry out

It’s on the tip of my tongue

Knock the scales from my eyes

Knock the words from my lungs

I want to cry out

It’s on the tip of my tongue

There’s an oasis in the heat of the day

There’s fire in the chill of night

And when I know them both, I’ll know your love

I will feel it in the twilight

Oh, as circumstance comes crashing through my walls like a train

Or like a chorus from the mountains of the ocean floor

Like the wind-burst of birdwings taking flight in a hard rain

Or like a mad dog on the far side of Dante’s door

Knock the scales from my eyes

Knock the words from my lungs

I want to cry out

It’s on the tip of my tongue

Knock the scales from my eyes

Knock the words from my lungs

I want to cry out

It’s on the tip of my tongue