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The Web

(Derek Disck&Steve Rothery& Pete Trewavas& Micheal Pointer&Mark Kelly&Brian Jellyman)

The rain auditions at my window
Its symphony echoes in my womb
My gaze scans the walls of this apartment
To rectify the confines of my tomb

I'm the cyclops in the tenement
I'm the soul without the cause
Crying midst my rubber plants, ignoring beckoning doors
Clippings from ancient newspapers lie scattered cross the floor
Stained by the wine from a shattered glass
Meaningless words
Yellowed by time
Faded photos exposing pain
Celluloid leeches bleeding my mind
Christ, you've finished playing hangman
You've cast the fateful dice
Advice, advice, advice me, this shroud will not suffice
And thus begins the web

Attempting to discard these clinging memories
I only serve to wallow in our past
I fabricate the weave with my excuses
Its strands I hope and pray shall last
Oh please do last
Oh please do last

The flytrap needs the insects
Ivy caresses the wall
Needles make love to the junkies
The sirens seduce with their call
Confidence has deserted me, with you it has forsaken me
Confused and rejected, despised and alone, I kiss isolation on its fevered brow
Security clutching me
Obscurity threatening me
Christ, your reasons were so obvious as my friends have qualified
I only laughed away your tears, but even jesters cry
But even jesters cry

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