The
path you tread is narrow
And the drop is shear
and very high
The ravens all are watching
From a vantage point nearby
Apprehension creeping
Like a tube-train up your
spine
Will the tightrope reach
the end
Will the final couplet
rhyme
And it's high time
Cymbaline
It's high time
Cymbaline
Please wake me
A butterfly with broken
wings
Is falling by your side
The ravens all are closing
in
And there's nowhere you
can hide
Your manager and agent
Are both busy on the phone
Selling coloured photographs
To magazines back home
And it's high time
Cymbaline
It's high time
Cymbaline
Please wake me
The lines converging where
you stand
They must have moved the
picture plane
The leaves are heavy around
your feet
You hear the thunder of
the train
And suddenly it strikes
you
That they're moving into
range
Doctor Strange is always
changing size
And it's high time
Cymbaline
It's high time
Cymbaline
Please wake me
And it's high time
Cymbaline
It's high time
Cymbaline
Please wake me
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