The story of a little cut,
For when this feeling's in your gut...

Oh what tangled webs he weaves,
When the spider's on your sleeve...

So few things shine so bright,
Still so few things bring such delight...

The sky is finally alive with light,
But your weary mind has stopped the fight...

She burns me like the sun,
And I cannot sway...

I see you still pray,
Stop talking to god...