Measure of Myth

Too bad you weren't there to see...
They took me there, to that place again,
They hung me by my thoughts,
They stripped me of my voice,
And then let me be.

Too bad, it was morning that never came...
I waited for the sun to hit my eyes,
I waited for them to gather around my pyre,
I waited for you to save my soul's last sail,
I waited in vain, again, for my self to become.

Here I welcome you to the circle of apathy...
Engulfing your threats to sanity,
As you lose your proclaims of destructive vanity,
I say, sing another song my friend,
Too bad, you weren't there to see.

On the Wrong Side of the Locked Door

I wish it was dark.
Then I won’t be afraid of the thin
Bright line, speeding in
Through that little hole in the door.

I wish I was alone.
And all these people won’t crowd
Around me, crying aloud
Their voices streaming in, through that little hole in the door.

I wish I was dead.
Living nameless and faceless
Is not living enough, and I wish
I could disappear, through that little hole in the door.

I wish you were with me.
And I won’t be worrying about all the people
Or the light, happy with the little world outside
As I can see, through that little hole in the door.

I wish I was free.
So that I could run after the butterflies
That are blocking my hopes flowing in
Through that little hole in the door.

I wish I could sing.
And give voice to my thoughts
And give them little wings, to fly out
Through that little hole in the door.

I wish I had a key.
To unlock this giant door
And run away into emptiness,
That calls me, through that little hole in the door.

I wish I had you
Then I could hate that little hole in the door.
I wish I could be…
On the wrong side of the locked door.