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

Christ, 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,

It's strands I hope and pray shall last

Oh please do 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

Christ, your reasons were so obvious as my friend have qualified

I only laughed away your tears, but even jesters cry, but even jesters cry



I realise I hold the key to freedom,

Oh 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 its say

You're all but forgotten a mote in my heart

Decisions have been made, they've been made, they've been mad