Faces up and enter
Mind your head
Away from the rain, and fast
Overhead, on the molded ceiling,
If visible through the smoke, the fresco
What they have depicted here is a kingdom
Where fools swarm like earthworms
Lions and wolves cuddle together with lambs and deer
Nice, but the beasts look like idiots with their fangs that way

Which minds me of the tingling in my lungs
How the hell do they deal with it, the healthy and well
Thought it must be a bitch for those still in the traffic,
Albeit the fuckers are so unaware if it now
The air is being washed clean by the air, but just look at them go
As if the rain couldn't catch them
To them I dedicate my song

OOOOOO
Watch your feet
And mind your step
On this damaged ground
Brush the rain rhythmic sweeps
Take on the breeze with your eyes closed
And an angle for the wind!

Look again, at the network of moments, if visible through the smoke
The winds are fast, the rain too heavy
And here we are
Just confused, and out of place, as the beasts up overhead

Lie and wait
There's no way out from the lands of the lost
Lie still in quiet while the morning is working
To bring a day of fear to the sons of war

Sit and listen
To the other side of border where words so same are told
And the morning can only bring them another day of fear
They are blessed by the same god
And the morning is working to reveal what last night's smoke holds back

As for the few who hold the will and means
How do they speak
What are the words they say to make mothers and fathers
Turn loved ones into mass of sleepwalkers droning by over the line
Too far over the line

The morning can only bring them another day of fear
All blessed by the same god if such even exists here
While the morning is working to reveal
What last night's smoke holds back

And look at all this torn city has denied
These sons of war, so threatened and lied
Where mere loneliness, even in this mess, can when it wishes,
Take a man by the blind gut,
And toss his own wrong-doings back at his face
A song breaks out in the cold

Mother war
Hear our windless breathing
Mother war
Soothing cries with fear
Mother war
Our tears drained by loss
Mother war
Far over the line

This is the operation they perform
In one smooth move, they hide control from around you
In a similar, consequent move they place that same control inside you
No anaesthesia
Apart from an illusion of freedom, side effects are minimal
It may tingle a bit
Also, you no longer hear what is rolling from the east
The sharp rip followed by a muffled roar, carries a cry of loss
In one whopping bang, they lose everything
The soil beneath their feet, the souls they had

Only ghosts sing with the voices of those stolen by the bullet rains

Things from them look different
Mr. Erickson once said: "If you have ghosts, you have everything."
However, their ghosts,
They are different from those dressed in white sheets

The ghosts here, they make the masses move, tear worlds apart
And they stay - posted on the walls, scattered in the wind,
Blended into crowdsm and spun deep into minds

Things, for us too, could develop into something entirely different

The stinging stone for air and phantoms for men
Cruel water for a tease and a steady flaming sun
Like a slow heavy ocean the tides of earth march on in
As if doors were open for the grains to stay
But in the heart of the matter
In the silence of the sand
There is no voice
No touch
Not even loss
Though I repaired the wall and carried the stones
Still the desert bleeds as if washing its wounds clean
As it needs

It happens and nothing else
As it needs
No treachery in the wall
No hostility in the sand
No conspiracy in the wind
No demands at the door

My hands do the work wrong or my tongue addresses the wrong gods
I don't know
Maybe it is not just the sand
It is simple hate eating already bleeding hands

It rains on and off while air is so thick and nervous
As if someone was spying a distance away
And waiting for something to begin
Begin or end
But where the hell are they going?
With empty string bags
As they hurry like phantoms with their way among the living lost
Just sun-white bones on the streets

It's a distance away
The smallest imaginable flicker
A sign of hope
While confusion seems to come along with the raind and the sun
A call for the lost

On the streets but en route to nowhere
But then again, do you need to, if you're but a sun-white bone
And hung out like a bear skin to dry

Eyes open
The news pried open the locks of my awareness
I have no secrets
Well, unless one could call my ability to break moments into pieces one
All it takes is a one, maybe two wrongly selected words
I am meant a receiver, a filler of silences at best

Receiver, on this day
Not of wrath but deepest ignorance
As a servant of guilt, so heavy it will sicken to a cancer
You refused to breathe as if air was the devil's kiss
You refused all light as it had come with the end

I watch the news
Regularly
And I imagine how entire nations compare to me
How badly placed bombs can do harm in the same way as my words
Well, just keep in mind the scale of things, OK
How I have no nerve to reach in, and crack the really difficult problems
Apart from getting mad at them, maybe
Yeah, if I had a shotgun,
I would be interested using it for solving some problems
See if they'd come back
Ha

Receiver, on this day
Not a far cry from madness
As a host for guilt, so heavy it will sicken to a cancer
You refused to breathe as if air was the devil's kiss
You refused all light as it had come with the end

Guilt
It is all over the air like a scent having come with the light
As it were the god that had come to lick us back to it's darkness
Which it has plenty

I have
I have something to tell you

The way went cold long before we played our quiet afternoon music

The sky melts under the weight of no more words

When before you I stand
Murdered by illusion, betrayed by fear and outdone by the light

I despair the disgust I feel
You smile on me and then laugh
When I see it broken I am broken as well

Leaves fall
We turn to rust when I see you from the other room
Your deceptions nine hours later

Your screaming soul, how you have tried to touch me
Enfolded like a desert wind
Hot dry dust in the flower
Push me away
Sink down to the bottom with me
Your glare to cover me

Hold this memory, this passes by
All my sight and sound, all that I passed by
Every tear shed, another day passed
Every drop of rain a flower daid
We stare out of a portal into a desert
The colour of a rose at sunset
Shivering in the heat
Our minds wander across the sand

A fountain in the courtyard
Turn away as love fades in the shades of sun - drenched sienna
You say the sun will rise to burn you away
Time decayed in my veins here
I am done, dry in the dust
Centuries of ancient longing
Time and again I loved you when you crushed me
Don't turn away
An image of you, prone on my doorstep, is deep in my heart

Watch closely and live
One with the sand that passes us by
Call out my name
Lie silent in darkness
Reach out you hand, feel the teeth of fear
My death
I stand in stone
You want nothing more
Stand here in stone

Within my mind I long to see
Your cold city under a sky of schist

Sunset of an age
Chains of micropore gradient
Your face from love to disarray
Your city is as still as a bottom of a pond
Your laughter tears across me and I am gone

My sleep is breaking down
Who are you again
It's been predetermined how much of drainage we'll have to swallow
Before we'll be allowed some air
Don't worry, I'll be there to push you back under again

Slowly through the years I'm not getting anywhere
How many times did I love you when you crushed me?
How many times?
I'll be in your dreams...
Until death

We watched it over lunch
Caffeine for the tired eyes
Warm smoke for the nerves
Some well-wrapped sweets
And oh mercy how sour they were
We read it in the paper while having warm bread
Five olives and a spoonful of something thought sweet
And of mercy how bitter it was

Glassy eyes, chrome nerves and an issue to address
Glassy eyes, chrome nerves
The news just said it nice

Admit to your jailors that it's too much
And be tied ever tighter
Stand like this, still in a closet full of kicks on an angry chair
Arrested twice and shot

[Instrumental]

In this image, the air sits as still as it were painted on a canvas
Blue smoke, of joys gone, is still here
Cloaking a soul sold to method and number
Sold, as if the devil's deal had fallen short

Now spooked by the ink of his own pen
The map of a life lived, and the beta versions all over the floor,
Have all gone awry
All the lines are spidering from here to there, and then back again
For the purpose, they are too thin
And they make no sense

At the end of the day
By and between the devil and me
This agreement is made and entered into

A moth on the back wall
He witnessed and then carried on with his own business