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The rain auditions at my window |
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Its symphony echoes in my womb |
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My gaze scans the walls of this apartment |
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To rectify the confines of my tomb |
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I'm the cyclops in the tents |
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I'm the soul without the cause |
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Crying 'midst my rubber plants |
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Ignoring beckoning doors |
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Clippings from ancient newspapers |
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Lie scattered across the floor |
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Stained by the wine from a shattered glass |
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Meaningless words |
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Yellowed by time |
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Faded photos exposing the pain |
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Celluloid leeches bleeding my mind |
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Christ you've finished playing hangman |
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You've cast the fateful dice |
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Advice, advice, advice me, this shroud shall not suffice |
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And thus begins the web |
|
Attempting to discard these clinging memories |
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I only serve to wallow in our past |
|
I fabricate the weave with my excuses |
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It's strands I hope and pray shall last |
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Oh please do last |
|
Oh please do last |
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The fly trap needs the insects |
|
Ivy caresses the wall |
|
Needles make love to the junkies |
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The sirens seduce with their call |
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Confidence has deserted me, with you it has forsaken me |
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Confused and rejected, despised and alone, |
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I kiss isolation on its fevered brow |
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Security clutching me |
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Obscurity threatening me |
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Christ, your reasons were so obvious |
|
As my friends have qualified |
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I only laughed away your tears, but even jesters cry |
|
But even jesters cry |
|
I realize I hold the key to freedom |
|
Ohh I cannot let my life be ruled by threads |
|
The time has come to make decisions |
|
The changes have to be made |
|
I realize I hold the key to freedom |
|
I cannot let my life be ruled by threads |
|
The time has come to make decisions |
|
The changes have to be made |
|
Now I leave you |
|
The past does have its say |
|
You're all but forgotten |
|
A mote in my heart |
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Decisions have been made |
|
They've been made |
|
They've been made |
|
Decisions have been made |
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I've conquered my fears, all my fears |
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The flaming shroud, the flaming shroud |
|
Thus ends the web, the web, the web, the web, the web |
