ROOMS OF DECEMBER
I don’t want to go, Silent in my room,
Stare at fields of snow through frosty windows.
Death’s a latch away, Love is in her grave,
Flowers in the vase, Ghost in the gables.
And
in December rooms I lock all my doors,
In fire light and shadow play I lie on the floor,
As the mantra of passing days dulls to a drone
I’m lost in my home, far away,
lost in the rooms of December.
Lost
in retrospect, All forms silhouette,
Sounds I can’t detect, Life slipping by me.
The contours of my face, I never can erase,
scribble out the child that now dies inside me.
Lost souls of apathy who squandered their youth,
make up the hierarchy that murders the truth,
to camouflage entropy but there is no use,
you know it’s a lie.
You’ll die in the room of December.
The
seasons, they used to come,
sweet winds to the sail,
Now they come as solemn as a lowering pail,
to take all your water worth and empty your well,
as you die in the room of December.
all lyrics copyright 2004 Damien Youth