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
 there's no where you can hide
Your manager and agent
 are both busy on the phone
Selling colored 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
Suddenly it strikes you
 that they're moving into range
And 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