The End (I, II and III)

One (one one)
Two (two two)
Many (many many)

A thunderbolt slashing a bleeding white gash in grey skies
The blood that pours out is like the rain that drips down from my eyes
The reason has gone now meaninglessness sets in
Before my bones stiffen I'd like to see her wily grin... just once more

A hole in your head takes in what I've said without listening
The blood on my cheeks looks like polished teak when it's glistening
The knife in your hand is not in your control
The words I spit out slide slowly into your hole... but in vain

The rain and my blood are both one in the flood on the floor
The slit in the slat from the knife landing flat in the door
What an effort that was, such a vain little try
Yet I'm still racked with pain as your scorn scoured my eye
Not the knife

A thunderbolt slashing a bleeding white gash in grey skies
The blood that pours out is like the rain that drips down from my eyes
Now reason has gone and meaninglessness sets in
Before my bones stiffen I'd like to see her wily grin... just once more

A Husky dog with a log in its mouth
Roared up at me as we pulled the pole out
'Til its stomach deflated it impatiently awaited its untimely death
Orange light in the sky is an eye looking down
Iced down upon us as we boulder the town
Surveying our souls, matching the marks with the moulds of our
Untimely birth

A pint don't compare as I stare at the name
My heart holds the handle but it ain't the same
If they sold her in kegs they'd be drained to the dregs all my
Alcoholic
Life
Ordinary fears don't appear on my slate
Nor do they show in my folder of fate
Every phase I unfold is not in my control, isn't that right?

Some memories fade 'neath the shade of the split
Times that were fun now don't seem to fit
Even now as I wait will the Husky inflate and make me smile again?
Liars are people that weep, well I'm one
Like the earwig I chew my last soul mark has worn
"Answers!" I yell out
Though it's not at her I shout, but the dog with my bone

As I stroll in the cold I shiver
Is it cold? Or is it me?
There's a wall ahead of me, it is decayed
Tiny fragments of its body lie before my feet
Should I stand on it to get over it and make its decaying worse?
Or should I go round it?
I shall go round it
As I walk its length to get to the end I notice
As I go along there is less decay
And near the end the wall is, in fact, rock solid
Yet five yards away it crumbles
Half is dying, half is alive
Should I walk around the living half now?
Or can I walk over this – stand on it?
Surely it can do no harm
Or will it then cause the strong part of the wall to break
And eventually become decayed?
Who's bothered? It's only a wall
Oh God, I wish it was

Ahhhhh
Ahhhhh