Seneca's Silence

Oh it touches, itches, bites and wastes the time

Trying not to be in love with what is mine

With sirens singing

All the big things that we hate, we cry about

Will turn to gold if just leave them out

Then lets hope his silence is with us tonight

I'll bing the camera - can you hold the light?

The dusty pages of the book that wakes the dead

Say don't hold dear the timethat we once had

It's a pleasure waiting for the things to come

A little patience and the blood will run

Then lets hope his silence is with us tonight

I'll bring the poisen - can you bring the knife