in from the cold
your head full of spiders
spins straw into gold
your nerves feed each other
giving birth to the lie
that it’s all gonna break
just like always, old man
the long years only take
but we sat in our rooms
and we drank even more
both alone, sunlight wept
like a festering sore
i knew you, i loved you
we had years in those hours
holding desperate and close
in the dark with the rope
now it’s freedom and fire
and i’ve since killed desire
for the gifts you’ve been granted
and hold like a snake
how much you could lose
and i hear how you shake
how you sigh and say, old man
this all could be fake
but the thing we both know
is the casual scars
in the call of the dark
in your cell’s iron bars
in the twist of your hand
in your lonesome homeland
in the songs from your band
in your hurricane heart
go on, dear, i beg you
if you love us, make art
mattress dungeon 