Byron Preiss - The Secret: Verse 1 lyrics

Fortress north Cold as gla** Friendship south Take your task To the number Nine eight two Through the wood No lion fears In the sky the water veers Small of scale Step across Perspective should not be lost In the center of four alike Small, split, Three winged and slight What we take to be Our strongest tower of delight Falls gently In December night Looking back from treasure ground There's the spout! A whistle sounds.