I stare from behind the mirror

I still can't feel a thing

this house has been dead for years

it doesn't mean anything

the walls are soaked with indifference

the rooms occuppied with despair

the bed rocks in its own ignorance

the windows just open and stare

a climate of unhappy families

all covered with dirt and with flies

breeding a hole for our secrets

so we can watch them all grow into lies

at the same time the room seems to mock you

parading your shadow of doubt

they pray for our silent audience

and beg for forgiveness without

I dreamed for years before now

I'd end up in a place like this

too scared in a room I refuse to call home

I knew it would end like this

I walk with a weight on my shoulders

of the promises that I broke

to get rid of my guilty secrets

throw them down that same hole

this house is a house of failure

of bitterness and remorse

of illness betrayal and torture

it means nothing of course

in the corner I swear I can hear

the ghost of you screaming at me

questioning misplaced virtues

and my infidelity

and even though I did not doubt you

no one said that you had to be right

the lights in the air that surround me

could turn my day into night

the company of the corpse here beside me

will haunt me forever like your screams

like everything else never leaves me alone

from my waking house into my dreams