Everything You See Has Its Roots In

In The Middle Of My Heart, A Star Appeared, And The Seven Heavens Were Lost In Its Brilliance.

And If One Of Our Instruments Breaks, It Doesn't Matter. We Have Fallen Into The Place Where Everything Is Music.

You Are The Root Of Heaven, The Morning Star, The Bright Moon, The House Of Endless Love

Silence Is The Root Of Everything. If You Spiral Into Its Void A Hundred Voices Will Thunder Messages You Long To Hear.

I Want A Heart Which Is Split, Part By Part, Because Of The Pain Of Separation From God, So That I Might Explain My Longing And Complaint To It.