Beaks Of Benevola

Walking around in the corridor without a sound on the hardwood floor

The savages are asleep and the infirmary is quiet like a morgue

Humming a tune from The Devil’s Brigade in the pondering sulky silence

Perishable in debt he pays the rent for all the evenings to repent

I want to be good

I want to be righteous for the perished yet unfolded

Forever blind, never misunderstood

Find a place in the woods among the bluebirds on the riverbed with shackled beaks in silence

I want to be good

It’s the end of the line, blind babies in a ballroom fade away, it’s the house of detention

Out here we’re lost in the haze, a thousand days are shorter than an hour in the Sun

Like a splinter to the spine, time is taming the untarnished

Trade your soul for the bliss of believing there are stars in the ceiling

Breeze in the curtains, grass on the floor, china on the table and a river in the sink

Creatures of the night watch sleeping on broken wings

I want to be good

I want to be righteous for the perished yet unfolded

Forever blind, never misunderstood

Find a place in the woods among the bluebirds on the riverbed with shackled beaks in silence

Silence

I want to be good