You shot me out like confetti from the canon
But you never intended to clean up the mess
Already shed my dress
And the scientist will never find the holy grail
The words impaled as I lit another flame
Hid my tail between my legs
And slept in fetal position
I beg for inquisition, instead I got a lousy photograph
A freakish silhouette defines now who I am
Amid all the loud, happy sounds, all I hear are church bells
A death knell and a dirge that fell on its sword
You took my moon away, but you never tasted its core
So plant some seeds of memory
Cause my daydreams haunt me
And the taper has almost reached the floor