| Men are waiting patiently;
|
| Remove me from the scene
|
| A sea of faceless souls in suits
|
| A sight for eyes, like thumbs;
|
| Sore, crooked, and bow and foul relief
|
| You! |
| Have!
|
| You have been exposed
|
| Your eyes speak well of you
|
| They play my requiem
|
| To a closed-casket burial
|
| Your conspiracy;
|
| Conspiring to deliver me
|
| To the authorities
|
| I have been betrayed so graciously
|
| My bloodhounds are hooked on a trail of ink
|
| Which led me to the words you scribbled down;
|
| An obituary dedicated to me
|
| Submit before coming
|
| Your eyes speak well of you
|
| They play my requiem
|
| To a closed-casket burial
|
| Your conspiracy;
|
| Conspiring to deliver me
|
| To the authorities
|
| I have been betrayed so graciously
|
| I might as well be blind with isolated eyes like mine
|
| Your fingers are star-crossed lovers that can’t seem to get enough of each other
|
| This pantomime dialect doesn’t practice what you preach
|
| Doesn’t practice what you preach
|
| Might as well be blind with isolated eyes like mine
|
| Might as well be blind with isolated eyes like mine
|
| Might as well be blind with isolated eyes like mine
|
| Your eyes
|
| Speak well
|
| Of you
|
| Blur your eyes and
|
| Bend the lines
|
| Do you like what you see?
|
| Oh, Romeo |