When I was young I was the king of garret spiders
My domain stretched from bedroom wall to floor
And in my dreams I’d hear them whispering
Until I issued my commands and sent them scuttling through the ceiling door.
I wore my golden crown in a thick jungle
Lost in emerald, bathed in jade
But in the shadows there lurked a presence
A kaleidoscope of fury bursting into the day.
You are, you are, you are, you are
You are my one foothold.
As we grow old our chests grow hairy
Our noses lengthen and our muscles thin
Our failures become the stuff of legend
And our victories the stuff of kings.
So bring my horse. I want to ride.
I’ll seek the cliffs, I’ll seek the sea
I’ll seek a garret filled with spiders
My ancient blood will make them bow to me.
blackmarksonawhitepage 