the diminshed abyss


the piano keys are playing yet no one is at the chair
crawling the halls is a man of button-eyes and wool hair
the sound draws the broken man near
he throws open the door yet there is no fear

the hands on the clock keep turning
yet somehow the fire keeps burning
walking the halls he degrades into time
ruining the place with his satin-belted prime

and so the stone killed the rat
and the destroyer laughed and grew fat
yet it's love that killed him
he has no one to call his little 'slim'
no one knew and no thought
his head is stuffed and lies and moths

and the stumps and the bumps that he once called his limbs
with the gash in his neck are all filled with our sins
he walks his near last steps but only for the first time
he's gone and consists  of filthy slime

the blood on the walls has now grown cold
and the time he's been walking is labelled old
he's sand, for yet the second time around
after the kings and queens have all been uncrowned

and so the button-eyed freak no longer walks this place too
but his sons and daughters do,they look the same standing six feet two
the blood on the walls is now just a stain
the sons and daughters of the 'gash-necked brain'


only for them do the lights start to flicker, then shut off
there's no hope now the world still hasn't grown soft
and so while we hear them pound at the doors
this is the thing that got them here, this is war