Woorden: Mars Volta. The Bedlam In Goliath. Metatron.

:
Maybe I?ll breakdown
Maybe I?ll try
Circumvent innoculation
And I just want a cut
When will I breakdown
Lately I might
Unconnect the fascination
And I just want to touch

This is a list
They?re my demands
Forget the question
Come on bring
Your nervous hands
You read it in my letter,
?Patience worth is dead?
Suffocate the inkwell
I am legion said the pen
Her seraph snout
And cruciform limp
I blame the shrouding
Of a lesser man
My sigil contraptions
They work with
No crutches
Don?t show me
The hinges
I am absent

She came to me
When she was
Pouring out of drool
Under sedation
Under vulgar multitudes
If you stay and try
To fix what you did
The sheets were wet from
All those messages
A million petitions
Her lock with no key
You forfeit the right to be believed
Full implant
Shapeless as a jewel
And I am stranded by eternal solitude

The vault that I call home
It falls beneath your palms
Before I crawl my out she calls
When you?re standing
Right outside my window
Water thirsting
You're standing
Right outside my window
When will I drown

I?ll never get a distance shot
Heard vessper pure
I never want to see your face
Until the word is made flesh
You?d better ask Metatron
Those flowers that withered away
In the pages of your book
For one day
They won?t block your route

In the dead plot
You dream in
Ten go away
Ten born of pray
Ten go away

Folding wormholes
My time is riding
In the alphabet
My time is
Writing on the wall

Debase by your sentence
I fell in the trap
What door slid behind me
I can?t see it anymore
When she sleeps as a witness
Got no better hands
Tied a single stutter
Do you speak my dialect
Accidents will happen
Keep your earnings to yourself
One sip under the table
Until it moves all by itself
Eye of Fatima
I?ve kept all your dreams
In a waking isolation
Of indictment

(Thanks to Bran for these lyrics)