Is it because I cannot see you That you feel so free to steal My excess baggage full of darkness and despair While I fumble with my locks You're content to stand and knock Yet I know your knack for thievery is rare
Do you know they call it arson Setting fires without permission In my heart for sure and maybe elsewhere too Though your lack of inhibition Captures my imagination I end up a wiser person thanks to you
It's coming to fruition The sympathetic vibration Your train is at my station Within without
Then there is your flare for murder There's a dagger in the border Of your cloak and I suspect a captain's gun As you put to death suspicions Kindly kill my fears as well Exorcise and slay the demons one by one
Though I'm usually pacifistic You are mercifully sadistic And I didn't know that murder could be good But the roses came crimson Springing from the prison Of the floorboards where there once were stains of blood
It's coming to fruition The sympathetic vibration Your train is at my station Within without It's calming my suspicion With soothing intuition Your train is at my station Within without Within without Within without Within without
