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These days been house ridden Couch sitting in a cold mind The long silence of the dim type And old man breathing in the room next to mine I spoke it with fever Put my foot down against reconcilable blame Still I dream in a desert Of a heart that's been drowning in shame The truth of the matter Is from the shadows it was staring me in the face Would have lost myself in the desert Of the hearts that lie tarnishing, debased Wits quitting, all the shit's spinning And fists swinging under wooled eyes A tall shadow of the blind type The fold of the forfeit All past times of mine You heard it trough the ether A still riding, melancholic hue You dreamt in light empyreal Of my heart, would be coming home to you Until you face the matter From the shadow had been staring us in the face You will sleep in a desert And your heart will lie honourably disgraced
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