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Track 3 of _Script For A Jester's Tear_
The rain auditions at my window, it's 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 he 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
You've finished playing hangman, you've cast the fateful dice
Advise, advise, advise me, this shroud will not suffice.
Attempting to discard these clinging memories,
I only serve to wallow in our past
I fabricate the weave with my excuses,
its strands I hope and pray shall last
Oh please do last.
The flytrap needs the insect, ivy caresses the wall
Needles make love to the Junkies, 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 it's fevered brow
Security clutching me, obscurity threatening me
Your reasons were so obvious as my friends have qualified
I only laughed away your tears, but even jesters cry
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
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 has had its say
You're all but forgotten a mote in my heart
Decisions have been made.
Decisions have been made I've conquered my fears
the flaming shroud.
Marillion The Web