I was in a strange and unfamiliar place
staring at the ceiling like the dying man's face
Altering the columns of the palace hall
burning like a face through the millennium walls
From silence contort
I'm bleeding all the colors from
the windows of love
I'm breaking glass
I'm terrified
Stumbling through the minion of the putrid race
every space devoured by the people I hate
Brainless spools of chemistry, puppets on strings
hanging in the horror show and staring at me
As I sink in my form
I'll murder all of my hours away
The wound is still warm
We're bleeding out another day
and I can't stand to see another day
I can't stand to see another day
A true hidden treasure of a song writer. This gent has been capturing songs in demo form on old tape recorders since the 80s. . . and he's still capturing his magic sounds in his secret basement. Damien Youth