I stare from behind the mirror   I still can't feel a thing   this house has been dead for years   it doesn't mean anything      the walls are soaked with indifference   the rooms occuppied with despair    the bed rocks in its own ignorance   the windows just open and stare      a climate of unhappy families   all covered with dirt and with flies   breeding a hole for our secrets   so we can watch them all grow into lies      at the same time the room seems to mock you   parading your shadow of doubt   they pray for our silent audience      and beg for forgiveness without   I dreamed for years before now   I'd end up in a place like this   too scared in a room I refuse to call home      I knew it would end like this   I walk with a weight on my shoulders   of the promises that I broke   to get rid of my guilty secrets      throw them down that same hole   this house is a house of failure   of bitterness and remorse   of illness betrayal and torture      it means nothing of course   in the corner I swear I can hear   the ghost of you screaming at me   questioning misplaced virtues      and my infidelity   and even though I did not doubt you   no one said that you had to be right   the lights in the air that surround me      could turn my day into night   the company of the corpse here beside me   will haunt me forever like your screams   like everything else never leaves me alone   from my waking house into my dreams