The Pendulum swings above my head , with every swing once , twice , it falls , the jailers keys are turned , my histerical wife weeps for my death for ...., the paper mache man is here . his pendulum swings once , twice .......
.. The old clock chimes once , twice , It’s pendulum swings once , twice ... It’s two in the morning, from these dreams did I awake ? There are dreams within dreams i. can hardly partake . Yet here am I frozen in terror in my bed , from dreams I have awoken to find you staring at me from the rafters , from my four poster bed . As in fear I lie awake to you’re silence , for in nothing did you say , a mask of paper mache you wear to hide you’re face away , of behind lies a darkness of sadomasconistic misery and space . Am I dreaming or could I be dead ? Is reality. drowning in my head ?
A cold wind sweeps across my room , You are still there but now you are staring at the moon .
How bright it’s glow so high in the night , and when sunlight comes you will be gone in the light .
It worries you , This sunlight , when dawn appears for you’re darkness will be exposed by the passing of the years .
The birds are in song their melodies sweet , and you have vanished in some daylight retreat . For the sun now demands its time to shine , for all darkness disappears in the light of time ..