O’er the garden wall
Too nimble to fall...

The fit is the scream of silence
As she floats high above the burning field...

Your spectre keeps me sleepless
Smiling wide into the darkness...

The father still loves me
And he loves you too...

In the way I find this night
Solitary, calm and lone...

They have me tied to their chair
For their Masochistic Traits...

I form these words
Beneath oceans...

No more glass
Through which we view...

Hiding in a night
Cracked like glass...

I'm laughing, are you serious?
You don't have the conviction to be with us...

Not sure of what I hate anymore
Or if I even hate at all...

Iridescent light fades
Fighting to a loss against the dark...