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Sometimes it's very scary here, |
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Sometimes it's very sad, |
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Sometimes I think I'll disappear; |
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Betimes I think I have. |
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There's a line snaking down my mirror, |
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splintered glass distorts my face |
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and though the light is strong and strange |
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it can't illuminate the musty corners of this place. |
| [01:27.69] |
There is a lofty, lonely, Lohengrenic castle in the clouds; |
| [01:37.80] |
I draw my murky meanings there |
| [01:48.08] |
but seven years' dark luck is just around the corner |
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and in the shadows lurks the spectre of Despair. |
| [02:12.24] |
A cracked mirror 'mid the drapes of the landing: |
| [02:20.24] |
split image, labored understanding... |
| [02:28.55] |
I'm only trying to find a place to hide my home. |
| [03:15.39] |
I've lived in houses composed of glass |
| [03:17.41] |
where every movement is charted |
| [03:19.23] |
but now the monitor screens are dark |
| [03:21.17] |
and I can't tell if silent eyes are there. |
| [03:23.74] |
My words are spiders upon the page, |
| [03:25.73] |
they spin out faith, hope and reason - |
| [03:27.76] |
but are they meet and just, or only dust |
| [03:30.10] |
gathering about my chair? |
| [03:33.34] |
Sometimes I get the feeling |
| [03:35.10] |
that there's someone else there: |
| [03:37.69] |
the faceless watcher makes me uneasy; |
| [03:41.38] |
I can feel him through the floorboards, |
| [03:43.17] |
and His presence is creepy. |
| [03:45.36] |
He informs me that I shall be expelled. |
| [03:49.74] |
What is that but out of and into? |
| [03:53.03] |
I don't know the nature of the door that I'd go through, |
| [03:56.92] |
I don't know the nature of the nature |
| [03:58.74] |
that I am inside .... |
| [04:07.72] |
I've lived in houses of brick and lead |
| [04:09.99] |
where all emotion is sacred |
| [04:11.71] |
and if you want to devour the fruit |
| [04:13.90] |
you must first sniff at the fragrance |
| [04:16.23] |
and lay your body before the shrine |
| [04:18.25] |
with poems and posies and papers |
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or, if you catch the ruse, you'll have to choose |
| [04:22.37] |
to stay, a monk, or leave, a vagrant. |
| [04:25.70] |
What is this place you call home? |
| [04:29.51] |
Is it a sermon or a confession? |
| [04:32.70] |
Is it the chalice that you use for protection? |
| [04:36.10] |
Is it really only somewhere you can stay? |
| [04:39.31] |
Is it a rule-book or a lecture? |
| [04:42.67] |
Is it a beating at the hands of your Protector? |
| [04:46.52] |
Does the idol have feet of clay? |
| [04:50.37] |
Home is what you make it, |
| [04:52.78] |
so my friends all say, |
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but I rarely see their homes in these dark days. |
| [05:06.32] |
Some of them are snails |
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and carry houses on their backs; |
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others live in monuments |
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which, one day, will be racks. |
| [05:25.68] |
I keep my home in place |
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with sellotape and tin-tacks; |
| [05:33.50] |
but I still feel there's some other Force here.... |
| [05:42.15] |
He who cracks the mirrors and moves the walls |
| [05:49.23] |
keeps staring through |
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the eye-slits of the portraits in my hall. |
| [05:57.32] |
He ravages my library and taps the telephone. |
| [06:06.78] |
I've never actually seen Him, |
| [06:08.92] |
but I know He's in my home |
| [06:16.16] |
and if he goes away, |
| [06:21.16] |
I can't stay here either. |
| [06:28.98] |
I believe...er ...I think... |
| [06:39.34] |
well, I don't know ...... |
| [07:42.31] |
I only live in one room at a time, |
| [07:47.20] |
but all of the walls are ears and all the windows, eyes. |
| [07:52.26] |
Everything else is foreign, |
| [07:54.48] |
'Home' is my wordless chant : |
| [07:57.08] |
mmmmmaah! |
| [07:59.02] |
Give it a chance! |
| [08:38.62] |
I am surrounded by flesh and bone, |
| [08:40.51] |
I am a temple of living, |
| [08:42.65] |
I am a hermit, I am a drone, |
| [08:44.63] |
and I am boring out a place to be. |
| [08:47.67] |
With secret garlands about my head |
| [08:49.56] |
unearthly silence is broke, |
| [08:51.44] |
the room is growing dark, and in the stark light |
| [08:54.64] |
I see a face I know. |
| [08:57.19] |
Could this be the guy who never shows |
| [09:00.62] |
the cracked mirror what he's feeling, |
| [09:03.61] |
merely mumbles prayers to the ground where |
| [09:06.29] |
he's kneeling: |
| [09:07.62] |
"Home is home is home is home is home is home is me!"? |
| [09:11.51] |
All you people looking for your houses, |
| [09:14.32] |
don't throw your weight around, |
| [09:15.86] |
you might break your glasses |
| [09:18.22] |
and if you do, you know you just can't see, |
| [09:22.26] |
and then how are you to find |
| [09:25.23] |
the dawning of the day? |
| [09:30.57] |
Day is just a word I use |
| [09:34.62] |
to keep the dark at bay |
| [09:39.09] |
and people are imaginary, nothing else exists |
| [09:48.03] |
except the room I'm sitting in, |
| [09:50.02] |
and, of course, the all pervading mist |
| [09:55.06] |
sometimes I wonder if even that's real. |
| [10:10.27] |
Maybe I should de-louse this place, |
| [10:21.22] |
Maybe I should de-place this louse, |
| [10:31.80] |
Maybe I'll maybe my life away |
| [10:42.98] |
In the confines of this silent house. |
| [10:53.91] |
Sometimes it's very scary here, |
| [11:04.37] |
Sometimes it's very sad, |
| [11:14.39] |
Sometimes I think I'll disappear, |
| [11:25.37] |
Sometimes I think ..... I.... |
