Inside the rainbow live the faerie folk, laughing, happy, free
Shimmering, gossamer wings and cloaks drifting silently
But they are just protectors of the Master of Camouflage
Taking on the rainbow’s hue, lost in the spectrum, stalking slowly
Eyes ever-turning, constantly searching, he takes in all he can see
Invisible, invincible, he moves in the rainbow ever-changing, tirelessly
Lost in the colour, a slow moving shadow, a phantom hard to see
Sometimes he stops. I can feel him – he’s looking for me.
Voices like wind chimes, whispering, gently, merrily, softly
Dressed in glowing butterfly wings, the faerie folk run swiftly
Pulling the rainbow's colours behind them, swinging across the sky
Over mountain and hill, valley and dale, over the river and down to the sea
While the Master walks in the rainbow, ever silently, ever slowly
His eyes ever watchful, swinging like searchlights, move restlessly
Stronger than night time, unchanging as day, moving inexorably
Closer and yet closer - the Master, he is coming for me.
The faerie folk conspiring together, end the rainbow's march abruptly
Sliding down the gentle colours, they reach the river's end and gently
Part the many-coloured curtain so that there, in the river-rainbow arch
The Master, the Chameleon, changes to his true colours fleetingly
And thus revealed, his might mysterious, his splendour for all to see
The search is nearly over, I watch as he eyes me steadfastly
His beautiful golden tongue darts out, strikes my soul and impales me
Then he is once again the rainbow’s shadow and I, the rainbow trout, caught
At rainbow’s end by the Master, the Chameleon, in that place lost to thought,
Can do no more than surrender to the Master completely.
Shimmering, gossamer wings and cloaks drifting silently
But they are just protectors of the Master of Camouflage
Taking on the rainbow’s hue, lost in the spectrum, stalking slowly
Eyes ever-turning, constantly searching, he takes in all he can see
Invisible, invincible, he moves in the rainbow ever-changing, tirelessly
Lost in the colour, a slow moving shadow, a phantom hard to see
Sometimes he stops. I can feel him – he’s looking for me.
Voices like wind chimes, whispering, gently, merrily, softly
Dressed in glowing butterfly wings, the faerie folk run swiftly
Pulling the rainbow's colours behind them, swinging across the sky
Over mountain and hill, valley and dale, over the river and down to the sea
While the Master walks in the rainbow, ever silently, ever slowly
His eyes ever watchful, swinging like searchlights, move restlessly
Stronger than night time, unchanging as day, moving inexorably
Closer and yet closer - the Master, he is coming for me.
The faerie folk conspiring together, end the rainbow's march abruptly
Sliding down the gentle colours, they reach the river's end and gently
Part the many-coloured curtain so that there, in the river-rainbow arch
The Master, the Chameleon, changes to his true colours fleetingly
And thus revealed, his might mysterious, his splendour for all to see
The search is nearly over, I watch as he eyes me steadfastly
His beautiful golden tongue darts out, strikes my soul and impales me
Then he is once again the rainbow’s shadow and I, the rainbow trout, caught
At rainbow’s end by the Master, the Chameleon, in that place lost to thought,
Can do no more than surrender to the Master completely.
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