| I’ve stared these walls down for hours
|
| I’ve watched cracks in the plaster as they crawl the wall Encouraged by the
|
| stirring, in foundations
|
| Brought by the changes of the elements
|
| I hung the paintings oh so strategically
|
| Trying to mask the imperfections from the naked eye
|
| Like makeup to mask the signature of time
|
| I beg my conscious not to speak of what it has seen
|
| Or what it knows
|
| Erase the past behind these walls, erase the past
|
| But the rafters weep at the rain
|
| Floorboards bend like a crooked spine
|
| Muttering gossips at each step they die to tell
|
| A stench of mold permeates out from its hiding place now
|
| Walls insulated with spite, abuse, addictions
|
| Problems I’m too afraid to face alone
|
| Bodies I’ve locked in with bitterness
|
| The ones that hurt
|
| The ones that said that I couldn’t be what I want to be
|
| Doors open I can never close
|
| Everything is swayed I’ll keep a fresh coat on the outer skin
|
| A set of wax plants on the front porch
|
| Those who pass by this old estate
|
| Well they will never know Well isn’t that the name of this old game
|
| A fraud, mislead by false by appearance
|
| Loved ones, drifters wait outside
|
| Forgotten are the times I welcomed people in through these doors How much
|
| longer will the monotonous words hold their ground Everything is just fine
|
| But now my world is shaking
|
| And out of the cracks the snakes creep out
|
| Exposing my rot I’m not as strong as I make you believe
|
| As a matter of fact, beneath the skin I am crumbling
|
| Like the incision to separate the infection from tissue
|
| Oh carpenter, renovate the old so what’s old can become new |