The rain auditions at my window, its symphony echoes in my womb |
| My gaze scans the walls of this apartment |
| To rectify the confines of my tomb |
I'm the cyclops in the tenement, I'm the soul without the cause |
| Crying 'midst my rubber plants, ignoring beckoning doors |
| Clippings from ancient newspapers lie scattered cross the floor |
| Stained by the wine from a shattered glass |
| Meaningless words, yellowed by time, faded photos exposing pain |
| Celluloid leeches bleeding my mind |
| You've finished playing hangman, you've cast the fateful dice |
| Advice, advice, advice me |
| This shroud will not suffice |
And thus begins the web |
Attempting to discard these clinging memories |
| I only serve to wallow in our past |
| I fabricate the weave with my excuses |
| Its strands I hope and pray shall last |
| Oh please do last |
The flytrap needs the insects, ivy caresses the wall |
| Needles make love to the junkies, the sirens seduce with their call |
| Confidence has deserted me, with you it has forsaken me |
| Confused and rejected, despised and alone |
| I kiss isolation on its fevered brow |
| Security clutching me, obscurity threatening me |
| Your reasons were so obvious |
| As my friend have qualified, I only laughed away your tears |
| But even jesters cry |
I realise 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 |
| I realise 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 it's say |
| You're all but forgotten a mote in my heart |
| Decisions have been made, decisions have been made |
| I've conquered my fears, the flaming shroud |
Thus ends the web |