Oh, sickness creeping in my head;
build up this fire, and build it high.
Watch it rising to the stars,
just so that we can watch the sky.
Reader, can you see them twinkle?
Touch the stars and tell the world.
Fifteen minute fame is ending,
and you're still spinning on this tilt-a-whirl.
What happens to the locks, dear reader,
the ones with no numbers left to find?
You can't open them for whatever reason...
and so closed stays your awful mind.
Mutiny unto itself,
it whispers lies into your ears.
And every night you hum yourself to sleep..
but the words never quite soothe your fears.
Can you hear the whispers, darling?
Knuckles white like a cheshire cat.
Spring and summer fade to December...
oh, darling, what do you think of that?
Oh, darling, is there e'er an escape?
One way ticket to outerspace?
Watch the fire die, my darling;
the stars can see past your veils of lace.
Numbness is a pleasant treat,
tells you stories from once upon a time.
But clocks and locks, they gather dust..
and death shrieks loudly in your mind.
