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The Trauma Coil (Faith and the Muse)

Another night down on the catherine wheel Drawn into a corner A symphony of resounding shrieks in my head I court a sure, sudden death But give no quarter A paper soul tears the heart from the mind Searing is the morning, a tenement of lights Lost inside the attic On the floor again with a head full of rain Wander with the shadows of shelter and smiles Bleeding in a stairwell Fever-staggered steps and a mouth so dry Three liquid words collapse Blind and chasing sirens Five years of night time and a heart made of tin Allow your sympathies the length of a table I recognize no brother Lash out at their smiles and walk in through their eyes As my knowledge, does the knowing Split my being from past days In decision, in departing In the severance of old ways With precision, in my silence I perceive the bitter still Imposition, these young calling Withered kisses, or the kill? Together we stand We stand so still Indifference, hollow laughter Bathes the walls of this lost home So futile, all attempts Affectations, long to roam Ever spinning, vile actress Answered blindly to the call The price, child yet again we sit And watch our private rome fall I am not well No, not well at all