(Be The No One)

Behold the guardian's light, the road is filled with blood.
The sun guards my soul into a divine mockery of words
with fusion and music, little birds all around me
the grip of Death spills my wrath, kills me in the mood.

And as soon as the wolf stares at the lonely child,
it sharpens it's teeth with illusion and starts to run wild.
That's the bottom line, if you watch clearly the cracked photograph
of my wicked life, those staring eyes are white with insane lines.

The time is up, when my face is down, and no arms are allowed to dance
if you wish to open the present, and close down the past.
Down, down as my face, up high as the time, clear as the cheerful sky
Now is the time to look at the mirror and ask myself why.