This song seemingly tackles the methods of deception those who manipulate others use to get victims to follow their demands, as well as diverting attention away from important issues. They'll also use it as a means to convince people to hate or kill others by pretending acts of terrorism were committed by the enemy when the acts themselves were done by the masters of control to promote discrimination and hate. It also reinforces the idea that these manipulative forces operate in various locations, infiltrating everyday life without detection, and propagate any and everywhere.
In general, it highlights the danger of hidden agendas, manipulation, and distraction, serving as a critique of those who exploit chaos and confusion to control and gain power, depicting a cautionary tale against falling into their traps. It encourages us to question the narratives presented to us and remain vigilant against manipulation in various parts of society.
Yeah I try to write it out, not sure what I recall
I can't tell if it's memory or story telling now
It happened very quickly but it seemed to last for hours
And everything was crisp and clean till all came crashing down
So much fire and debris that I was nearly blind with panic,
and there was no one anywhere to turn to be saved
from the tyranny and cavalcade. And all use was lost.
And the more that I would struggle, the more that I became entwined
And the thickets & the thorns became my flesh and I was vine.
Creeping deep into the pavement, breaking ground as I grew fast
To the center of the city and up again where I did gasp
in the air, oh to breathe, and I was still alive with a start
And there were people everywhere to behold and admire
And I longed to be one of them and though I was lost
I felt familiar with my surroundings, though they didn't look quite right
Like someplace that I had been before, under cover of night.
And I found my way by light of day to the center of a crowd
and told them I was one of them and begged them for their help.
And with stones they took their aim, and I knew I would die at their hands
Where I was crowned a heretic to be loathed and set fire and laid upon a funeral pyre
And as I cast my eyes to the sky I felt your touch,
so gentle and so soothing that I knew I had been saved,
but my movements were so labored and my will had been betrayed
But my lips they work alone now and to them I am enslaved.
And the slightest indiscretions that I made were met with rage
And I burned to be free and then you rescued me
with your voice and beckoned me beside you and your touch was alive.
Sensational and vibrant and with care and your words
You say “A secret is a stealthy thing, you cannot know its plans.
You were only dreaming, dear, and now you're here with me again.”
You ask if I'd account to you the spirit of my night
And you handed me this pad and this pen with which to write.
While it's fresh in your mind.
Before it gets away
Before it gets away
Before it gets away
Before it gets away…
I can't tell if it's memory or story telling now
It happened very quickly but it seemed to last for hours
And everything was crisp and clean till all came crashing down
So much fire and debris that I was nearly blind with panic,
and there was no one anywhere to turn to be saved
from the tyranny and cavalcade. And all use was lost.
And the more that I would struggle, the more that I became entwined
And the thickets & the thorns became my flesh and I was vine.
Creeping deep into the pavement, breaking ground as I grew fast
To the center of the city and up again where I did gasp
in the air, oh to breathe, and I was still alive with a start
And there were people everywhere to behold and admire
And I longed to be one of them and though I was lost
I felt familiar with my surroundings, though they didn't look quite right
Like someplace that I had been before, under cover of night.
And I found my way by light of day to the center of a crowd
and told them I was one of them and begged them for their help.
And with stones they took their aim, and I knew I would die at their hands
Where I was crowned a heretic to be loathed and set fire and laid upon a funeral pyre
And as I cast my eyes to the sky I felt your touch,
so gentle and so soothing that I knew I had been saved,
but my movements were so labored and my will had been betrayed
But my lips they work alone now and to them I am enslaved.
And the slightest indiscretions that I made were met with rage
And I burned to be free and then you rescued me
with your voice and beckoned me beside you and your touch was alive.
Sensational and vibrant and with care and your words
You say “A secret is a stealthy thing, you cannot know its plans.
You were only dreaming, dear, and now you're here with me again.”
You ask if I'd account to you the spirit of my night
And you handed me this pad and this pen with which to write.
While it's fresh in your mind.
Before it gets away
Before it gets away
Before it gets away
Before it gets away…
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i definitely agree with ltkenbo, the song seems very biblical in a sense that Chris is thanking God and being persecuted.
I absolutely love this song.