Dark wings, flailing,
Blood work failing
Life behind a door
Strange work, taxing,
Tenuous figures of plastic on the floor
Hell lies frozen in his chest
Wax work boy, who built it knows it best
Delicate
Brittle as a thought
In his house of glass
On his hill of sand,
He will
Never last
In the paper land
Where his maker walks
Silently he stands
Machines feed his new dis-ease
A drug now freely dealt
And the shame won’t hold him down
Hell lies frozen in his chest
Wax work boy, who built it knows it best
Fear the toxin of his mind
Fury doused in chaos by design
Delicate
Brittle as a thought
In his house of glass
On his hill of sand – He
Hell lies frozen in his chest
Wax work boy, who built it knows it best
Fear the toxin of his mind
Fury doused in chaos by design
Delicate
Brittle as a thought
In his house of glass
On his hill of sand
He will
Never last
In the paper land
Where his maker walks
Silently he stands
Hell lies frozen in his chest
Wax work boy, who built it knows it best
Fear the toxin of his mind
Fury doused in chaos by design
Light off kilter, breathe through filters
Fantasies galvanized in hate
Skin is peeling, pain won’t cease
Killing all he creates.
I’m not aware of a live version for this track.
