is it because I cannot see you

that you feel so free to steal

my excess baggage

full of darkness and despair

while I fumble with my locks

you're content to stand and knock

yet I know your knack for theivery is rare



do you know they call it arson

setting fires without permissions

in my heart for sure and maybe elsewhere too

though your lack of inhibition

captures my imagination

I end up a wiser person thanks to you



it's coming to fruition

the sympathetic vibration

your train is at my station

within without



then there is your flare for murder

there's a dagger in the border

of your cloak and I suspect a captain's gun

as you put to death suspicions

kindly kill my fears as well

exorcise and slay the demons one by one



though I'm usually pacifistic

you are mercifully sadistic

and I didn't know that murder could be good

but the roses came crimson

springing from the prison

of the floorboards where there once were stains of blood



it's coming to fruition

the sympathetic vibration

your train is at my station

within without

it's calming my suspicion

with soothing intuition

your train is at my station

within without

within without

within without

within without