In awkward times at awkward places ...

Rogues in glitter robes, with fierce grimaces

Sneak around me glowering.

I should be running away

But I keep standing here in fires.



Sinister choirs of whip-lashing demons

With circling vultures in a dreadful allegiance.

Singing out of tune in empty words and empty phrases

Heard it all before from a familiar face.



And every tone cuts deep as rain in april

Every chord they form tears open the wounds



But today will be my day

When I stand up and be brave

Today it is me and my ire

Today I stand alone in fires.



Was my heart one of a sparrow?

Caged in the prospects of disbeliefer's eyes

Was I lurking in my own shadow?

For a minute free of compromise.



So many years have passed inside the mussel

So many have defiled my realm

So many foreign tongues and unknown words

So many blether and blether and blether...



Awoke. From sorrow sleep.



And every tone cuts deep as rain in april

And every chord they form tears open the wounds



But today will be my day

When I stand up and be brave

Today it is me and my ire

Today I stand alone in fires.