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lyrics

My actions are a paradox
My memory's a broken clock
That rings inside a coffin
And refuses to be snuffed
By the awful choking silence
That sweeps across the room
But leaves a tattered mess
That is brushed up by the broom
That you’re staring at for hours
Just wishing it would move
By itself like there’s some magic
That’s been left by waning moons
That disappear in darkness
To be brought to shattered tombs
Living pharaoh dreams and splitting seams
The mummified remains
Of a tired king whose rule remains
Engraved in history
Like a book can keep a secret
Of a suicidal ghost
That lives on in words its written hurt
Is stuck inside a page
And he’s singing for help to get him out
But the ink is just a stain

credits

from A Scrapbook of Things We Wish to Forget, released December 27, 2012

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Without Eve

Without Eve

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