midnight washes over
steady and the moon
once low on the horizon
hangs in the sky like the heal of deaths
boot kicking at the door
calling us to lsten
calling us to open to his cold steel embrace
which in reality is warmer than the summer.
Dance a happy dream over our heads
when last we fall asleep
the hills up yonder fail to great us
the dying daisies weep
and sweet revenge has left our hearts.
we must sing a slow song now
in this land of whispers
in this land of mysteries and tales spun thick as spiders webs
a rat is in the corner
chewing on the wires
a fly is in the window
waiting to expire
i am in the mirror
painting up my eyes
outside the girls are dancing
someones knocking at the door
theyre calling me to join them
my velvets on the floor
but i must join them
i must fly
