Got a condition
Under my skin
Ain't going to be solved
With simple addition

These days are short
These hours are long
I'm whispering to myself
In a tune of a song

Here comes Greg the gong
Standing straight as he cracks his knuckles
His face his old, his robes are grey
He tells me, "Your stomach looks like it's about to buckle."

Outside the cafe
We sip on coffee and biscuits
Looking at a world
Caught up in its own mischief

Lies are spread thin
Truth a little thinner
Then, we see something move
Behind the building of the barber
We go to look and later on
Wished we were a little smarter

We saw
A rock painted in blood
An eye inside of a glove
I nod my head and Greg tries to say,
"Death is a caught fish in a stream far away."

The night fell like an anvil
Onto my sagging shoulders
I was never taught the rules
So I can't say I've forgotten them

Caught in a fix of my own creation
Where the truth and the lies mix
"There's nothing in this life that is quick"
I nodded my head at him and paid my tip

Catch the break in the pause
"Smells phosphorous," she smiled.
I've travled a thousand miles
But what I've seen
Never amounted to nothing
After I saw her

She was the cat's purr
And the dog's meow
The air behind
The desert winds frown

I'm torn apart
Left for dead
Waiting for that moment
When one become two
Wishing I'd chosen
The other instead

Can't see a way out
The tunnel's caved in
Dynamite went bad
Only darkness around me now
And I'm struggling to breathe

There was no light
No way away from myself
I tried to recall
Everything I'd ever touched

But all I felt was
Soot in my nose
And rocks in my eyes
And then a phrase came to me,
"It was all a big lie."

I died and became
The whistling kettle
Of an unreleased song
By a well-known singer

A whisper whose sound would be better
If shouted by a heated young lover

There is a night
Without vanity or despair
Where life runs free
Without injustice or duty or care

Find that Night

Seek it
Search for it
And take what you were born for

Find the Night